


The Steel Ministry

by puddlejumper38



Category: Mistborn - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 04:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11051751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddlejumper38/pseuds/puddlejumper38
Summary: Marsh's infiltration of the Steel Ministry in the Final Empire.*contains spoilers for all three books in the original Mistborn trilogy*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: There is some eye horror in later chapters. I tried to keep it to a minimum. Aside from that, there shouldn't really be anything that doesn't also apply to canon. Also, while there are serious spoilers for The Final Empire, there really are major spoilers for Well of Ascension and Hero of Ages as well. 
> 
> I tried to be as faithful as possible, but if you spot anything inconsistent with canon please tell me so that I can (a) fix it if its fixable or (b) swear violently if its not.

 

The glinting metal point descended down towards Marsh’s eye.

He blinked, keeping his head still as possible as the needle touched the skin above his eye, sharp pin pricks of pain dancing over his skin as the ink was applied with precision. The obligator paused every so often, inspecting his work, wiping away loose ink and specs of blood.

Looking beyond the needle, Marsh watched him with suspicion. Corrupt or not, the man was still an obligator and Marsh wasn’t entirely sure he trusted him with permanently altering his appearance.

Not that he could have had anyone else do it. It wasn’t as though the rebellion had any experience with completing Steel Ministry tattoos.

The obligator changed inks, moving on to a bright red.

The Inquisition tattoo.

The obligator motioned for Marsh to turn his head, and the work continued, transforming Marsh from half breed skaa to acolyte for the Steel Ministry.

Later, Marsh found himself examining his reflection critically. The obligator had done a good job – the simple dark lines radiated out from his eyes, contrasting against the one red stripe on the side of his head.

Marsh looked exactly like a low level obligator from the Canton of Inquisition.

That was that then.

He would be entering the Ministry, and likely never coming out again. The aim was to gather as much information as possible, to stay within the Ministry for as long as possible. Inevitably, they’d catch him. Marsh had made his peace with that.

He smiled grimly. All his life he’d hated the Ministry, it _would_ be nice to get one up on them. And, if he acted with caution, the intelligence he gathered could benefit the rebellion long after he was gone.

There were worse ways to spend his last days. Such as in a shop, watching the Final Empire grind its citizens into the ash covered ground, and doing nothing.

He pulled on the grey obligator robe – okay, acolyte, technically – and strode from his room and out to his brother.

Kell would be the only one on the boat to see Marsh with the tattoos. Beyond Yeden and Kelsier’s crew, no one else knew of Marsh’s infiltration. It was safer that way.

Kelsier looked up briefly, and then spun back, doing an impressive double take.

‘Effective, isn’t it?’ Marsh said.

He stepped smartly back as Kell attempted to poke the side of his face.

‘Inquisition, eh?’

‘I told you which Canton I was joining.’

‘Yeah. Inquisition for the Inquisitors.’ Kell leaned in, examining the tattoos.

Marsh watched him carefully, in case he decided to try and poke at them again. For whatever reason, Kell was no longer smiling.

‘Hopefully,’ Marsh said. ‘I did consider the Canton of Orthodoxy, but I think Inquisition will be better.’

‘Mmm.’ Kell stepped back again. ‘The obligator’s waiting outside for you, I think he’s a bit antsy about the whole thing.’

‘Corrupt or not, I can’t imagine he’s had too many people trying to infiltrate the Steel Ministry.’

‘Probably not. So, how long do you think it’ll be before you’re heading back to Luthadel?’

Marsh shrugged. ‘That depends on how many recruits they’re picking up. And their selection process – I don’t know a great deal about that. I’d estimate three weeks at the earliest, probably four, although it could be longer.’

‘Oh well,’ Kell said, smiling. ‘I’ll be gone a while in those caves, checking out our army.’

_Our army._

Marsh didn’t like the way his brother said that. Laughingly. That was thousands of skaa Kelsier was referring to; people who clung to whatever small hope they had that the Final Empire _could_ be brought down.

‘There are a lot of other people you’re leading into danger, Kell,’ Marsh said. ‘Try to remember that.’

_And not just think of this as a game_ , he added silently.

‘I know, I know,’ Kell said, shrugging. ‘I am visiting them, you know.’

‘You didn’t remember it very well when you brought Vin into Kredik Shaw.’

Kell’s expression turned a little more serious, which was a nice change. Still, if Kelsier couldn’t manage to be responsible around a single sixteen year old, Marsh hated to think what he’d do with the rebellion.

‘I know that, too. It was a mistake, but… she was going to follow me, anyway, Marsh. At least that way I could - ’

‘Let her be attacked by two Inquisitors?’ Marsh asked.

Kell winced, very slightly. He did care about Vin, which was just as well, for her sake. Unfortunately that only served to concern Marsh _more_ – Kell had still led her into Kredik Shaw.

‘You just concentrate on the Ministry,’ Kelsier said, then smiled, ‘and I’ll concentrate on leading the skaa.’

Marsh stiffened, but refused to rise to that. Even if Kell could do with a good solid punch.

He eyed his brother silently for a while. The skaa deserved a leader who believed they could achieve something in their own lifetime. That wasn’t Marsh anymore, but he hadn’t expected it to be Kelsier who took over. Well, Yeden, technically, but Marsh knew how his brother worked.

Finally Marsh turned towards the door.

‘I’ll see you back in Luthadel,’ he said simply, abruptly, and left Kell standing there, still smiling.

Always smiling, Kelsier. Marsh wondered how much he actually meant it nowadays. Hathsin _had_ changed him. 

__________________________

 

Marsh decided the corrupt obligator was, overall, not as bad as the rest of the Ministry. This was based mainly on the fact that he was essentially scamming them, not the man’s personality.  _That_ left a lot to be desired.

Yet the obligator was doing what he’d been paid to; he was getting Marsh as far as the Ministry’s recruitment barge. They’d gone over Marsh’s false background together in detail – any discrepancy could be fatal – and then he’d given Marsh a prepared file of what to expect when the recruiting obligators arrived.

At which point he’d stayed and hovered over Marsh’s shoulder with a calculating expression.

‘Now,’ the obligator began, ‘there’s the matter of my fee for facilitating this… this _infiltration_.’

‘You’ve been paid,’ Marsh said flatly.

‘Yes,’ the obligator agreed, ‘but given the high risk behind this particular deal…’

‘We agreed on a price, and it’s been paid.’ Marsh flipped open the file.

‘Who knows what the Ministry would pay me if I handed in someone trying to infiltrate them…’

Marsh put down the papers and gave the man an icy stare. ‘They’ll kill you simply for getting involved. Not to mention the other things you’ve done. The Ministry does not appreciate corruption.’

‘Oh, I don’t know, telling the Ministry about an infiltrator – that could gain me a lot of good will.’

Marsh turned back to the file. ‘And when the Ministry want to know how I managed it, yours will be the first name I give to the Inquisitors.’

Probably the threat was unnecessary – not only was the obligator too greedy to risk losing business, but he was far, far too deep in corruption to risk alerting the Ministry. Handing in an infiltrator and expecting not to get investigated? That wasn’t how the Steel Ministry worked.

They both knew that.

The obligator said nothing.

Marsh focused on the file, paying close attention to the recruitment details. Most acolytes would be accepted as obligators, it seemed.

That was good news.

It was actually getting in to the Ministry in the first place that concerned Marsh the most – after the Inquisitors, of course. Five years of training. Marsh had only a vague idea of what that training was supposed to be.

He should be accepted. The rebellion had gathered a fair amount on the Ministry. It had to, to have any chance of succeeding, and Marsh himself had dug up as much as he could. Know your enemy. Marsh knew the Steel Ministry as thoroughly as a skaa could. He’d dedicated his life to understanding them, in the futile hope that he would someday bring them down.

Of course, he remained certain that the other recruits would know far more, given their more official training. That was where his Allomancy came in. The Ministry liked to take in Mistings, and while Marsh was unsure about his Ministry knowledge, he was a skilled Seeker.

Hopefully it would be enough.

‘Written questions?’ Marsh asked, turning back towards the obligator. ‘I’d assumed interviews.’

‘They do both,’ the obligator said, a little sullenly.

Right, because Marsh had just threatened him.

Marsh sighed quietly. ‘Interviews straight after? So why bother with the written questions?’

The obligator shrugged. ‘It makes the interviews quicker. They like to get back to Luthadel as quickly as possible.’

They probably also weeded out those who wouldn’t be accepted, which was Marsh’s issue with the process. Assessing his Seeker skills would surely be done during the interview, and acolytes who were not approved were required to undertake an extra year of training.

Marsh couldn’t allow that to happen.

‘And we’re expecting their arrival within the next few days?’

‘Day after tomorrow,’ the obligator said. ‘Then we’ll see if you’re even up to the task, skaa.’

_Yes,_ Marsh thought. _We will._

__________________________

 

The obligator had been right – the recruiting obligators _did_ want to get back to Luthadel as quickly as possible.

Marsh, despite himself, had been impressed with their efficiency.

There were, in fact, two written tests. One to ensure his admittance onto the Ministry boat in the first place – that one was extremely easy – and another once on board.

Apparently they collected recruits alone the boats route, assessing them as they went. If a recruit was decided not to be fit to become an obligator, they would be expected to find their own way home from Luthadel.

As he sat the second test, Marsh was determined not to be one of them.

The questions were… average.

Some were general questions on the Ministry, others were more specific – covering an obligator’s duties, including prayer and ceremonies. Marsh had the most trouble with the later.

Nobles weren’t required to openly worship, but members of the Steel Ministry? That was a different matter.

Yet… he _could_ answer the questions. Not all of them, but most. He _had_ spent the boat trip over attempting to memorise the basic obligator prayers.

Marsh tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the desk, and added more detail to his last answer. The more information he included, the better.

He wished he knew more about what the obligators were _supposed_ to have learnt. He wished he’d had more time to discuss it with the corrupt obligator.

It was entirely possible he was leaving out large chunks of vital information.

The room rocked gently as the boat progressed down the canal, and Marsh paused in his writing.

_I am actually attempting to infiltrate the Steel Ministry_. He frowned down at the questions. _I must be mad_.

He’d spent a lifetime fearing discovery by the Canton of Inquisition – now he was trying to join it. The boat stopped rocking enough for Marsh to continue.

_Insane or not, I’m going to answer these questions to the best of my ability_.

The rebellion had never managed to get someone into the Ministry before, and Marsh was determined not to waste the opportunity.

Assuming he _did_ get in… How long would it take the Ministry to find him? Marsh had no doubt that they would. He had to make sure that didn’t happen at least until whatever Kell actually ended up doing had failed – and fail it would – because, although Marsh would like to believe he wouldn’t betray his brother, the Inquisitors had a reputation for breaking people. Thoroughly.

Once Kell’s plan _did_ fail, Marsh was sure he would be found too. It would only take one of Kelsier’s crew to be captured.

But, how long would it take the Ministry to allow its recruits access to important information?

Probably not long enough for Marsh’s taste. He’d have to learn his way around the Canton very quickly, that way he’d know which rooms to break in to.

Marsh shook his head. He was getting ahead of himself.

First, he actually needed to be accepted as an obligator.

He flipped back through the paper, carefully reading back through his answers, checking to see if there was anything more to add.

_Five years_ training, for every single other recruit.

At least there was a small section for Mistings to fill in, outlining their ability. Marsh had been absolutely honest on that one, something that wouldn’t have been necessary if he’d had a better idea of what he was _supposed_ to know.

It would have been nice for the Ministry to believe he was a little less proficient with his bronze.

Not that it really mattered. Marsh was no Mistborn, if – when – the Inquisitors came for him it wouldn’t matter if he knew what metals they were running low on. He couldn’t hope to fight them, nor even run from them. The only real advantage hiding the extent of his Seeker abilities would have been against Soothers and Rioters within the Ministry, and Marsh was partly hoping that if they knew he could tell what emotions they were effecting they might be less inclined to try in the first place.

It had always struck him as disturbing that someone could mess with his emotions. Marsh counted himself lucky to be a Seeker – copper was one thing, but not helpful if you weren’t sure when to use it. Bronze… you knew what the emotional Allomancer was _trying_ to do, and therefore could get the upper hand.

He’d also found it useful to understanding the Ministry. The Inquisitors were, after all, all Seekers. Although Kelsier and Vin’s experience demonstrated that at least some of them were Mistborn.

Marsh crammed in an extra sentence on a question regarding the Canton of Inquisition. That _was_ his Canton, after all. And… he was done.

Marsh could only hope he didn’t appear too hopelessly ignorant. 

__________________________

 

The boat was moored when Marsh was called in to see an obligator called Rahvell. He was the obligator conducting most of the interviews, so it was a good sign, but part of Marsh worried that they’d moored because he was about to be told to leave and find his own way home.

That couldn’t be right, though. Marsh thought the written tests had gone reasonably well.

_Act confident_ , Marsh told himself as he entered the interview room.

Obligator Rahvell had extensive tattoos, and from the Canton of Inquisition. Odd. Marsh would have expected an obligator from Resource to do the recruiting. Perhaps they alternated? But then he’d seen obligators from at least three Cantons with the Ministry boats, so maybe they went with a mix.

The boat’s uncomfortably small rooms left Marsh sitting very close to the obligator.

The obligator skimmed through a file and started with the basics. (False) name, noble house, reasons for joining the Ministry, Misting ability.

He nodded, sat back, and eyed Marsh for a moment.

‘You are, you understand, older than most our acolytes.’

‘Yes, my lord,’ Marsh said. ‘But, after many years of developing it, I feel that my Allomancy is more valuable to the Final Empire serving the Ministry than my House.’

Older acolytes were not unheard of. Marsh wasn’t particularly worried he’d be turned back because of his age. He _was_ worried that it would become a problem when combined with his lack of knowledge.

‘Your Allomancy is, then, your chief reason for joining?’

‘It’s only a part of it, my lord. I admire the work of the Steel Ministry and I’ve long considered being a part of it. Serving the Lord Ruler… our God… there is no higher – nor more important – pursuit in all of the Final Empire.’

Fervent loyalty to the Lord Ruler – a tactic Marsh hoped would overrule the holes in his knowledge.

Rahvell waited until he’d finished speaking, then made a brief note. Marsh tried to read it, but the obligator’s hand was shielding his note book. That seemed intentional, so Marsh stopped, lest it become obvious.

‘And why the Canton of Inquisition?’ Obligator Rahvell asked. ‘Why not the Canton of Orthodoxy?’

‘I considered Orthodoxy, my lord. However, it’s the Canton of Inquisition that I find most interesting, and I thought perhaps Inquisition would welcome my ability with bronze.’

‘And we will now commence testing of that ability. You claim to be very skilled.’ Rahvell was skimming through Marsh’s file again. ‘Very skilled indeed.’ He sat back. ‘I am a Seeker, and there are other obligators using Allomancy aboard this boat. You will tell me where they are, and what their Allomantic abilities are.’

‘Of course, my lord.’

The obligator seemed mildly sceptical. Marsh intended to banish that scepticism.

He burnt bronze.

Four Allomantic pulses were within his range. Three Pushing, one Pulling.

Rahvell, sitting in front of him, was indeed burning bronze – on of the Pushing pulses came from him – and there was another Seeker the next room over.

The third Pushing pulse was right next to the Pulling. A Soother and a Tineye.

Marsh related this information back to the Rahvell.

The obligator nodded, made a note, and looked back up at Marsh.

‘You claim to be able to sense the extent of metal reserves. You can demonstrate that now.’

Marsh concentrated – this would be far harder given that the Soother and the Tineye were so close together. And judging metal reserves was certainly one of the harder things to achieve as a Seeker.

‘You have… a significant reserve of bronze. The other Seeker is about to run out. The Soother is… the Soother has a small reserve, but won’t run out quickly as they’re only lightly burning their metal. The Tineye has a significant reserve, but has just flared their metal.’

Rahvell’s eyebrows rose, just slightly.

Marsh allowed himself to relax, just a little. He was _good_ at this. He knew where he stood with Allomancy.

‘Wait there a moment,’ Rahvell said, getting up and walking to the door, where he spoke quietly to the obligator standing outside.

  _I_ think _that this is going well_ , Marsh thought, as the second obligator walked off and Rahvell returned to his seat.

‘I have called the Soother and our second Seeker in,’ Rahvell said. ‘To complete the final stage of our testing on your Allomancy.’

‘To test that I know which emotions the Soother Pushes on,’ Marsh said, with a nod.

Rahvell smiled, very slightly. ‘Yes, exactly. You’ve spent a significant amount of time practising with bronze, yes?’

‘Yes, I have. I wanted to be able to make the most of my ability.’

_To understand the Steel Ministry, actually, and because I hoped I could use it against you._

‘Hmm.’ Rahvell noted a few things down.

They sat quietly – Marsh still burning bronze – until two obligators pushed through the door, making the small room all the more crowded. The Soother and the Seeker, as Rahvell had said.

Marsh bowed his head to them. ‘My lords.’

The Seeker was a small man, but he still had trouble folding himself into the corner of the room, out of the way, and Marsh was relieved he didn’t have to stand.

The Soother stayed where he was, burning his brass. Rahvell nodded to him.

Marsh inwardly braced himself.

_I am_ voluntarily _allowing this obligator to mess with my emotions. They had better accept me after this._

And Marsh barely felt the Push. This Soother was _skilled_. Subtle, like Breeze.

Of course, it did help that the Soother was Pushing on Marsh’s nervousness, and he was far more worried than the obligator had cause to think. Then he started Soothing Marsh’s confidence, which was annoying. His touch remained incredibly subtle.

Marsh relayed his observations back to Rahvell, who continued to burn his own bronze.

Rahvell noted it all down, with no further indication of what he thought of Marsh. Finally, the Soother extinguished his brass and Rahvell closed the file.

‘That concludes our interview,’ Rahvell said. ‘All acolytes will receive their results once we’ve assessed all the applications.’

_You must have already decided. Why not just tell me?_

Marsh bowed to Rahvell, then to the other two obligators, and left the room. 

__________________________

 

The Ministry boats drifted down the canal, making occasional stops, and Marsh was sick of it.

It wasn’t so much that he disliked boats, as he disliked boats filled full of obligators and acolytes. Particularly boats filled with obligators and acolytes that also happened to have low ceilings and very, very few private spaces.

And apparently shaving his head was part of a communal exercise, after the morning prayer.

Marsh couldn’t quite pin down why that annoyed him, but it did.

He welcomed the last stop to pick up recruits. It gave him the limited chance to step out on to dry land and get away from the obligators. A little. Not entirely. The acolytes were specifically banned from wandering off too far.

The Ministry had to stick to its timetable.

Ash fell from the sky.

Marsh huffed out an irritated breath. Of course it did. Half an hour off the boat and that _would_ be when the ash was falling.

He, and most of the other acolytes, stood under eaves of a building. Out of the ash, but not gaining a great deal of personal space.

There weren’t all that many of them, really. And only five – including Marsh – from the Canton of Inquisition. Marsh had no idea if that meant they were more likely to be accepted as obligators. Probably not, he decided. He imagined the Steel Ministry had strict guidelines for which acolytes it accepted and stuck to them.

‘Do you think we’ll see the Inquisitors much?’

Marsh turned with feigned casualness, and found two of the Inquisition acolytes whispering to each other.

‘Lord Ruler, I hope not!’ came the reply, soft, but emphatic.

‘You can’t say you’ve never thought about it before?’

‘I guess. I always just assumed that we won’t, my supervisor said they live in Kredik Shaw, and, well, it’s not _us_ they’re investigating.’

_Where did you get an idea like that?_ Marsh wondered. The Inquisitors could investigate _anyone_. It seemed bizarre that anyone could grow up ignorant to that fact.

‘ _My_ supervisor left Luthadel because of the Inquisitors,’ admitted the first speaker.

‘ _Because_ of them? In what way?’

‘She wasn’t specific, but something really freaked her out. I was asking her about the Inquisitors one day, saying how they are immortal, and she went really quiet for a bit, then said that they weren’t.’

Marsh turned his back to them, and moved a little closer.

‘Yes they are, they’ve served the Lord Ruler since the Ascension.’

‘That’s what I thought, but no, my supervisor said they age, and new Inquisitors are... She said _created_ , but, from people.’

‘That’s…’

‘Yeah, I know.’ The first speaker shifted further out of the ash. ‘She didn’t say much more than that. Only that the last new one appeared about fifteen years ago, and that she left Luthadel shortly after.’

_They’re not immortal…_

That raised a few disturbing questions, and also gave Marsh hope. They aged, they died, and therefore could likely be killed.

_Created though_ … _from who?_

The ash fell more thickly, the black flakes swirling through the air, and Marsh pressed himself closer to the building, trying to stay near the Inquisition acolytes as they did the same.

‘I wonder what she saw…’

‘Yeah, I think it must be something the Inquisitors didn’t want her to.’

_Don’t be ridiculous. If she’d seen something the Inquisitors didn’t want her to, she’d be dead._

Still, something with the Inquisitors had spooked this acolyte’s supervisor and Marsh would have loved to learn what it had been. If the acolyte could just mention her name, then Marsh could pass it on to the rebellion as someone who potentially had information on the Inquisitors.

Instead, the conversation tailed off, the acolytes staring out into the black ash.

Marsh leant against the wall, wondering about the reasons he’d given the obligators for his joining the Ministry. Had they believed him? What _were_ people’s reasons for joining the Ministry? Marsh had heard some of the nobles’ reasons, of course, they just… never rung true.

Certainly, someone could have a skill that would benefit the Ministry, but why _choose_ to do that?

Marsh tried not to look over at the two Canton of Inquisition acolytes again. So determined to join that even the supervisor’s background had not put him off. So determined to become part of the Steel Ministry. 

Weather be damned, Marsh needed time alone, _away_ from these people. He strode out into the ash.

__________________________

 

The boats moved off, gliding towards Luthadel.

And Marsh was called in to see Obligator Rahvell again.

_This can’t be good…_

All the recruits had been assessed, finally. If they’d decided that Marsh wasn’t good enough, now would be the time to send him back. Yet… from what he’d heard the others saying, Marsh thought that unlikely.

He entered the obligators office, bowed, and took a seat.

Obligator Rahvell smiled at him. ‘You can relax, this is a far more informal affair.’

_I’d prefer a formal one, actually. Helps to know where I stand._

‘And what affair is that, my lord?’

‘Well, I’ve now looked at all our applicants, and I like to make a point to personally congratulate the best of them.’

_…what?_

‘It’s astonishingly common in our recruits to pay close attention only to the Canton they wish to join. Not you. You’ve demonstrated a good understanding of each of the major Cantons, and in a level of detail few of our recruits can match. _'_

_But…_ Marsh just stared at him. _Their training…?_

Rahvell chuckled. ‘I see you’re surprised.’

‘Well… yes, my lord. All the Cantons serve important functions in the Ministry. To fully understand our job, surely its necessary to have at least a basic understanding of all the Cantons?’

_Five years of training! What were they all doing?_

‘Yes, exactly. You understand!’ Rahvell smiled again. ‘And on top of that, we have your command of bronze Allomancy.’

‘I’ve spent a long time practising.’

_The best of them…_

This was… definitely not good. Marsh did not want to stand out. This would make the obligators pay far closer attention to him. He’d wanted to be average, for Lord Ruler’s sake! He’d been striking a balance between his skill with bronze and lack of training!

‘And it’s very evident,’ Rahvell said. He leaned forward and offered Marsh his hand. ‘The Canton of Inquisition is delighted to accept you as an obligator.’

Marsh took his hand and shook it. ‘Thank you, my lord.’

‘I will, naturally, be passing all of your results on to the prelans. I’m sure the Canton will make good use of your talents.’

_I don’t want the prelans looking at me!_

But… he had made it into the obligators, apparently.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

_They’re all… incompetent_ , Marsh thought, eating his lunch quietly by himself.

Still, there was only so much room on the boat, and he could overhear a lot of the other recruits conversations. Marsh was making an effort to sit near the more talkative of them.

He’d come to the conclusion that he was the top candidate of this batch of acolytes because they’d spent the majority of their five year training learning absolutely nothing. No. That wasn’t _quite_ accurate. Most of them had a reasonable grasp on how the Ministry worked; they were just a little vague on the details.

_Particularly_ if it didn’t concern their Canton, just as Rahvell had said.

If he’d known that, Marsh would have been a little less... intense in his interview.

Now they thought he was a devout follower of the Lord Ruler, a competent acolyte, _and_ a skilled Seeker. And he was worthy of the attention of the prelans.

Granted, Marsh knew things could be far, far worse. However, they could also be much better.

He was picking up the odd bits of information from the other recruits – things they’d learnt from their mentor obligators. Things that weren’t necessarily part of the official program.

Things about the separate Cantons.

Things about Inquisitors, bits and pieces like he’d overheard at the last stop to pick up acolytes.

They _were_ all Mistborn.

Now, Marsh would prefer to get a second opinion on that particular rumour before he passed it on, but several of the recruits had agreed on it. In whispers. Fear of Inquisitors while knowing there wasn’t possibly one around. The Ministry _did_ have a tight grasp on its people.

Not that Marsh could actually fault anyone for being afraid of the creatures.

He wondered how much he’d actually see them, back in Luthadel. Given that they were expected to arrive in Luthadel by the end of the day, Marsh knew he’d find out soon enough.

Marsh didn’t _want_ to see the Inquisitors any more than necessary, but he had to get information about them somehow. And relying constantly on second hand rumours was far from ideal. Yet apparently they lived in Kredik Shaw, while the obligators stayed in their respective Canton buildings.

They were part of the Canton of Inquisition. Surely they’d visit it regularly.

The boat stopped.

Marsh looked up.

They were still half a day away from Luthadel, even if they’d been making good time. Although… there _was_ a small town they were due to pass through. They’d probably stopped there, for some reason.

Except that they weren’t scheduled to, and the Steel Ministry had so far been extremely faithful to its schedule. Around him, the other acolytes started to whisper to each other, glancing around with the same confusion that Marsh felt.

Rahvell and the other Seeker from Marsh’s interview bustled through the room, ignoring the acolytes, and heading for the exit.

Marsh was tempted to follow them, but there was simply no way to do it subtly. Whatever was going on, he was sure he’d find out eventually. He told himself it was unlikely it had anything to do with him.

Still he wondered. There wasn’t much else to do.

And kept wondering, as the minutes ticked by into hours.

_If this continues, we’ll never make it to Luthadel today_.

A third senior obligator got off the boat.

Marsh curbed the urge to get up and pace.

Eventually, a senior obligator returned and called for silence, readying himself to give some kind of announcement. Marsh recognised him as the Tineye.

_At least I haven’t been found out – they would have arrested me, probably without explanation to the rest of the acolytes._

Regardless, _something_ odd had happened.

‘As I’m sure you’re all aware by now,’ the Tineye said. ‘We’ve been delayed. There is a serious matter which our more senior obligators must be updated on. Since you’ll all no doubt hear about it once we reach Luthadel, we’ve decided to end speculation and tell you now. There has been a skaa uprising not far out of Luthadel.’

Marsh felt a chill.

Whispers began to spread through the room.

‘I stress that it has been dealt with by Valtroux City,’ the Tineye continued. ‘However, our received information indicates that Holstep was overwhelmed. The Luthadel Garrison has been sent to assess the situation, and hunt down the remaining skaa.’

_Holstep was overwhelmed… It has been dealt with… Hunt down skaa…_

What had Kelsier _done_?

Holstep was not part of the plan. It was far too close to Valtroux, there was no way for the army to withdraw again. No way to plan a false attack such as they’d planned for Hathsin.

_Dealt with by Valtroux City…_

No. No, they couldn’t have been. Not so soon. Kelsier was reckless, but surely not _that_ reckless, and Marsh was certain his brother would already be back in Luthadel. Would have been there for a while, if everything had gone to plan.

Yet, _something_ had clearly _not_ gone to plan.

There had to be some kind of mistake. False information.

Kelsier’s plan was _likely_ to get a lot of good people killed, but it wasn’t anywhere near time. Never mind that Holstep was an unrealistic target – the skaa had not had enough training. They weren’t _ready_.

Marsh itched to question the Tineye. Unfortunately he didn’t have the authority.

‘We will not be proceeding to Luthadel today,’ said the obligator. ‘Instead we will resume our journey tomorrow, and arrive in around midday. This matter with the skaa will be dealt with quickly and efficiently. With the Luthadel Garrison giving aid, any surviving skaa rebels will be found and executed.’

He didn’t sound uncertain, and would he really have announced such a thing if the information was unclear?

_But they weren’t supposed to attack Holstep!_

Kelsier must have changed the plan, his cursed ego making him think that – No. Kell was definitely in Luthadel. He’d intended to leave _Yeden_ in charge of the army.

But… Yeden was cautious, and even less of a warrior than Marsh. Surely Yeden would not have led his men to Holstep. In the three years since Marsh had left, he’d never once seemed inclined to make such a move.

Yet make it he had.

Marsh briefly closed his eyes, but that only served to get his imagination to conjure up images of what must have been a massacre.

The plan had collapsed before it had really begun.

Marsh sighed. That wasn’t entirely fair. A lot of people had been recruited; the skaa army had been larger than Marsh had ever seen it. And now they were all dead.

Hopefully _not_ all of them. Marsh had no exact numbers, no way of knowing if anyone had stayed behind in the caves. If anyone had survived.

_What could have possessed Yeden to –_

No, Marsh didn’t need to ask that. He knew _exactly_ what – or rather, who – had led Yeden to make such a terrible mistake. Oh, Kelsier wouldn’t have meant to do it. The final decision would still have been Yeden’s, of that Marsh was certain, but even a few months ago Yeden would never have made such a move.

Marsh felt a dull anger towards his brother. What had Kelsier _said_ to him?

Had he stopped to _think_ about the consequences, for even a moment?

It was barely a consolation that Yeden had been victorious over Holstep before he was defeated. That was what _always_ happened. The skaa rebellion never had a chance against the Final Empire. Outnumbered. Quickly overwhelmed. And the Final Empire’s soldier were always, _always_ better trained.

And yet, in a dark corner of his mind, Marsh felt relieved. Relieved that Kelsier had not been able to swoop in organise a successful skaa rebellion after Marsh himself had failed so very many times.

He was deeply ashamed of that relief. Yeden had been a good man, and a friend.

Thousands of good people had died with him. Skaa, desperately trying to find hope in a world that crushed them down.

Marsh clenched his hands in his lap and stared down at them. He could not react too much, not surrounded by the Steel Ministry.

Not surrounded by the very organisation that ordered their deaths. That ordered the skaa be beaten down in the first place.

And there would be more deaths to come.

The Lord Ruler always ordered executions after such an event. _Always_. 

___________________________

 

The Ministry boats pulled into Luthadel right at midday.

Marsh was ushered over to the other four recruits for the Canton of Inquisition. As far as he was aware, he was the only Misting of the group, and didn’t like it. As if he hadn’t stood out enough already.

He didn’t feel ready to be back at Luthadel. He felt off-balance, tired, and angry.

And Yeden had known he was infiltrating the Ministry.

_It won’t lead to anything. Yeden is dead._

The Ministry were unlikely to care too much for taking prisoners, even for those who survived the fighting. They might, of course, to find out if there were more skaa rebels, but Marsh doubted it.

The caves were too close to Holstep, it was obvious the rebels had come from there. The Steel Ministry didn’t need to torture anyone to figure that out, and it was unlikely anyone would figure out the rebellion was part of a bigger plan.

It had, after all, looked just like all the rebel attacks before it, except maybe for its size.

_I have to make sure I_ _succeed. The skaa can’t go on like this. We can’t overthrow the Final Empire with the information we have. We need to know more, we need to understand our enemy_.

The Final Empire would not fall in Marsh’s lifetime. He’d known that for a long time now. He’d accepted it.

But maybe someday…

He followed an obligator – not Rahvell – through Luthadel, towards Kredik Shaw, and the Canton of Inquisition. If he was wrong, if Yeden had been captured before he’d been killed, then Marsh would find out very shortly.

And what was Kell doing, now the plan had collapsed? Was he continuing with the idea of the House War? Yes, of course he would be. He was Kelsier – his ego wouldn’t allow him to let it go, particularly not when it involved the deaths of nobles.

Marsh gritted his teeth.

_I have to be practical about this. I_ knew _Kelsier’s plan would fail, I just have to keep pushing forward with this infiltration._

A Ministry building towered in front of him, and Marsh stared up at it, the tall spires of Kredik Shaw forming a formidable backdrop.

They turned right, walked up the steps, through the wide doors and Marsh was in the Luthadel Canton of Inquisition.

A place that had, for all of his life, been synonymous with certain death.

As if to emphasis the point, a figure in black robes strode up to them and started talking to the leading obligator, who bowed to it.

Marsh tried not to stiffen, but the Inquisitor had its hood down and it was impossible to ignore those spikes.

He’d never been so close to one before. He’d never even _known_ anyone who’d been so close to one before – or rather no one who had lived to talk about it. Well, anyone who wasn’t a Mistborn, and it wasn’t as though Kelsier and Vin had come away unscathed.

The Inquisitor turned, staring at the recruits with a pleased expression. They all bowed too. Marsh hated having to do that, but it was necessary. Unfortunately it just felt like offering up his neck for the Inquisitor’s axe.

Did it really _need_ to have that with it, inside the Ministry? But of course it wasn’t about necessity. It was about power and fear.

Then the obligator said something to the Inquisitor, hesitantly, and pointed directly at Marsh.

Marsh froze. Would they have bothered leading him all the way into the Canton of Inquisition if they suspected him? Of course they would. Much easier if you could make a spy come straight to you.

He reminded himself he didn’t know for certain. It rankled that the best he could do was keep right on cooperating, not knowing whether he was about to be tortured.

_Not so soon. I can’t be caught so soon._

‘Come,’ the Inquisitor said, looking directly at him.

_Just me? Or all the recruits?_ Marsh wondered.

Clearly the other three were thinking the same, one of them was shuffling nervously and the one closest to Marsh… he was actually cowering away from both Marsh and the Inquisitor.

_Thanks,_ Marsh thought, irritated.

The Inquisitor didn’t wait for a response – it just walked away. Marsh hesitated only briefly before following.

None of the other recruits followed. Presumably the lead obligator had given them some kind of signal to stay where they were.

_Fine_. Marsh would just have to face whatever it was by himself.

The Inquisitor led him through the vast Ministry building at a brisk pace that left little time for Marsh to take in his surroundings. Well, the building was to be his base for… for the rest of his life, probably. There would be time enough later.

Assuming he wasn’t already being led to his death.

Marsh could see the back of the spikes sticking out from the creatures head. They went right through its brain and yet it lived. Perhaps the secret behind the Inquisitors existence was something he could find out. _That_ would benefit the rebellion enormously.

Particularly if it led to how to kill them.

The Inquisitor disappeared into a room and Marsh made himself follow. It was a small room, with a single desk, which could have been ominous, except that the room was quite light, really, and had more of a vibe of an office than an interrogation room.

Aside, of course, from the Inquisitor. It didn’t sit, it just stood on the other side of the desk and watched him. Marsh watched it back. What, exactly, was he expected to do? Just sit? As a very junior obligator the Inquisitor was definitely his superior and it wasn’t sitting.

‘You will sit,’ it said, sounding amused.

‘Yes, my lord,’ Marsh said, the words like ash in his mouth. He sat, now forced to look up at the creature. It’s spike heads gleamed.

Someone else entered behind Marsh, making him tense up, but it was just an obligator, who bowed to the Inquisitor, shot a brief wistful look at the chair, and then went to stand in the corner.

And then the questions began again.

All things he’d been asked before, all about his background.

The background that had been hastily put together barely a few weeks before he’d joined the rest of the recruits. It _should_ stand up to some scrutiny, so long as the corrupt Obligator said nothing. Which… in front of an Inquisitor Marsh had his doubts.

Not to mention that the story itself sounded worse and worse every time Marsh had to recount it. He was too old for a recruit. He had no idea what he was _supposed_ to have learnt in his imaginary five year training.

Not as much as he’d expected. Surely seemingly too informed wouldn’t have tipped off the Inquisitor. Certainly it was information that was easier picked up if you were part of an organisation than if you’d collected it carefully over many years.

If Yeden had been caught, not killed, then surely they wouldn’t bother with the background questions. Surely they wouldn’t bother with the pretense.

Marsh’s neck was beginning to ache looking up at the Inquisitor. That wasn’t enough to make him take his eyes off it. Not for a moment.

The obligator hadn’t said anything, but he looked distinctly uncomfortable with the Inquisitor in the room. Marsh had no sympathy for him. It wasn’t grilling _him_ on an entirely fictional background.

The Inquisitor fell silent, spike heads pointed at Marsh.

_What now_? Marsh wondered.

If he’d said something wrong… No. He hadn’t. He’d made sure to get all the details right.

Knowing that was not nearly as comforting as it could have been. Not with an Inquisitor in front of him, the light glinting off its spikes. Marsh’s hands were sweating.

‘You paid attention to your training,’ the Inquisitor said, a statement, not a question. It could have been approval in its low, gravelly voice, but it was hard to tell.

‘Of course, my lord,’ Marsh said. ‘It’s an honour to serve the Lord Ruler.’

That made it nod thoughtfully.

Marsh risked glancing over at the obligator; he was watching the Inquisitor. And also sweating.

Did he know something Marsh didn’t? Or did you simply never get used to having an Inquisitor around?

It could be the latter. Marsh certainly couldn’t imagine getting used to it.

How often did the Inquisitors visit the obligators, anyway? He hadn’t been able to get a clear answer on the way over, but he’d got the impression that it wasn’t often. This could be one of the few chances he had to find something out directly… and that was whether Inquisitors were Mistings or Mistborn.

The acolytes on the boat may have thought they were Mistborn, but there was debate among the rebellion. Some thought Seekers, others believed the creatures were all Mistborn. The problem was; anyone who found out tended to do so because they’d been caught.

Marsh had a unique opportunity. Such opportunities were the point behind the infiltration.

It couldn’t hurt. They knew he was a Seeker, after all. Resisting the urge to take a deep breath, Marsh burnt bronze at the Inquisitor.

The Inquisitor was burning bronze right back.

Marsh forced himself to continue looking it in the face, to see the spike heads facing right back at him. The rumours that they could read minds were false, of course. They had to be. And therefore it didn’t matter that it had caught him burning his bronze. They _did_ know he was a Seeker.

The Inquisitor smiled.

_I am going to die here_ , Marsh thought. _Right in this room_.

‘What metals am I burning?’ The Inquisitor asked in that rasping voice, still smiling.

Immediately two more metal pulses came from it. One Pulling, one Pushing.

It was harder to distinguish individual metals pulses when they came from the same source, but Marsh had mastered it years ago.

‘Tin, pewter and bronze,’ he said, mostly on autopilot. This Inquisitor, at least, was a Mistborn.

It was hard to be a religious man with the Steel Ministry as his only choice, but right then Marsh would have bet those spike eyes were seeing right into his soul… just after he’d spent the last quarter of an hour lying to its face.

He could have used a god to pray to.

‘How are my metals reserves?’ it asked.

Marsh had already gone through his Seeker skills with three obligators. What more could this creature want with him?

He forced himself to concentrate on his bronze.

‘Your bronze and pewter are fine, but your tin is running low, my lord.’

The Inquisitor’s smile widened into a grin.

It started burning zinc, and a second later Marsh’s urge to run racketed up several notches.

‘Which emotions am I effecting?’ it asked, tilting its head to one side.

_I don’t need my bronze for that_ , Marsh fumed, _your touch is about as subtle as Kelsier in a nobleman’s mansion._

‘My fear,’ he ground out past gritted teeth. ‘You’re Rioting my fear.’

The Inquisitor regarded him silently for a few moments, not letting up with either zinc or the unnerving grin.

Marsh concentrated, checking with his bronze that his fear was all the creature was effecting. It was. He was _not_ going to give in to it. He refused to even look away from its inhuman stare.

Wait. It was Pulling his emotions, but not _just_ his emotions. The Inquisitor was also Rioting the obligator’s fear.

Marsh’s eyes flicked over to the man and sure enough, he was leaning further away from the Inquisitor.

The Inquisitor tilted its head, leaving Marsh unsure whether whatever vision it had was capable of detecting small eye movements. Unless proven otherwise, Marsh would have to assume that it did.

‘I think you,’ the Inquisitor said, ‘will go far.’

That was apparently it. If it had been a test, Marsh could only guess he’d passed it.

The Inquisitor left, the pressure of its Rioting fading shortly after it disappeared through the door.

Marsh let out a breath slowly, clasping his shaking hands together. He hoped they did that to _all_ new recruits arriving in Luthadel. If not… well, Marsh was coming to regret standing out so much. The last thing he needed was to gain the attention of the Inquisitors.

The obligator moved out from the corner, mopping the sweat off his brow.

‘Damned things,’ he said, quietly, shooting a glance at the door as if to make sure the Inquisitor had not returned. ‘It had no reason to affect _my_ emotions. None at all.’

Marsh didn’t know what to say to that. Had the obligator not been told what the Inquisitor was going to do? His tattoos were extensive enough that he had to be relatively senior.

The obligator shook his head. ‘I feel I should say; they don’t always interview our new recruits, but there’s no real pattern to it. Except the Mistings. They like to interview the Mistings.’

‘That’s good to know,’ Marsh said, perfectly honestly. He swallowed to fix his dry throat.

‘I bet it is.’ The Obligator wiped his brow again. ‘You barely even arrive only to have one of those descending on you. I’d put in a complaint but…’

He trailed off and seemed to expect a comment of some kind. Marsh supposed he could offer something, although he was mainly wondering what he’d just stumbled upon. The Inquisitors apparently didn’t cooperate fully even with the obligators in the Canton of Inquisition.

That was interesting.

‘I understand,’ said Marsh. ‘Putting down a complaint under the circumstances would be… difficult.’

The obligator nodded several times.

‘You did very well, by the way,’ the obligator said. ‘Exceptionally well.’

_Damn,_ Marsh thought. _Not again._

‘Thank you,’ he said.

‘Most people can’t keep looking at them after the first five minutes or so,’ the obligator continued. ‘Or at least, not directly in the face.’

Marsh was convinced it would be just as unnerving taking his eyes _off_ the creature, knowing it was watching him. He wasn’t sure that counted as doing _exceptionally well_.

‘And they lean back from them,’ said the obligator.

‘I didn’t want to move,’ Marsh said, partly because it was true and partly because he needed to make allies in the Canton and this man was clearly terrified of Inquisitors. Most sane people would be. Marsh just wasn’t certain anyone sane would join the Canton of Inquisition.

The obligator chuckled. ‘Fair enough. I’m Radon, by the way.’ He approached the table and offered his hand.

Marsh shook it. Thankfully his hands had mostly stopped shaking.

‘It’s my job to settle in the newest recruits and oversee your new assignments.’ Radon motioned for Marsh to stand. ‘I’ll show you to your rooms and give you your schedule for the next few days. Obviously I’ve been through your tests and the like and I have a particular project in mind for you, as a skilled Seeker.’

‘I look forward to using those skills to help the Ministry,’ Marsh said, trying to sound genuine and not eager in the vindictive _I intend to tear down this Ministry if I can_ manner that was actually the truth. ‘One of the reasons I joined was to put my Allomancy to better use.’

‘And what better use than serving the Ministry,’ Radon said.

‘Exactly,’ Marsh agreed.

‘Ah, well, I can’t say too much more until I have full approval from my superiors,’ Radon told him, tapping the side of his nose. ‘It’s a top secret project, you know, and I’m afraid you’ll be under a bit of scrutiny as one of the few junior obligators there but… No. I shouldn’t say more. Please, follow me.’

They left the room and continued through the Canton building.

_This_ , Marsh thought, _sounds promising._

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

The first thing the Steel Ministry did was update his tattoos from acolyte to obligator.

And then Marsh was launched straight into his duties.

Read this. Read that. Summarise this report. File it. Collect something from the Canton of Orthodoxy, now the Canton of Resource. Attend prayer. Back to reading. Partly working alone, partly working with the other new recruits.

Marsh tried to glean as much information as he could, but… it was hard to find where the important things were going to be. The Canton of Inquisition was _huge_ , well organised, and everyone had somewhere they were supposed to be and a supervisor who seemed to know _exactly_ where that was at all times.

_There’s a_ lot _of competition between Cantons_ , Marsh decided, reading a report that was a thinly veiled attempt at saying the Canton of Inquisition was superior to the Canton of Orthodoxy – despite Orthodoxy technically being in charge. Although that was only through the Lord Prelan belonging to Orthodoxy.

Barely a few days in the Canton of Inquisition and Marsh could tell they thought themselves above the other Cantons, and the main rivalry was definitely with Orthodoxy.

And yet… there seemed to be something stopping them from full on competition with the Canton of Orthodoxy. It was odd. The rivalry was there between obligators, but it never seemed to go far.

Not so much with the Canton of Finance, where Marsh had seen Inquisition obligators being openly condescending. It seemed counterproductive to him.

Marsh filed the report with a sigh. They squabbled among themselves, but none of them seemed to question the Ministry itself. He hadn’t expected anything really, particularly not in official reports, but it was so… depressing. It was the Final Empire’s bureaucracy, surely if someone wanted to change things, they could achieve _something_ from within the Ministry. Little things, certainly, but no one seemed to be trying.

No one seemed to care.

Couldn’t they see that law they were amending would only make the skaas’ lives worse? Couldn’t they look outside to the ash stained faces and wonder if maybe things could be better?

Of course they didn’t. They were the people who benefitted most from the system. The people who _joined_ it – to keep at as it was.

Kelsier hated the nobles, but they couldn’t help who they were born to, any more than he and Kell themselves could help being half breeds. It was the nobles who then voluntarily worked to keep the system the same who Marsh hated. The obligators. The Steel Ministry.

They were nobles. They had other choices. And they chose to serve the Final Empire.

‘Ah, there you are!’  Radon appeared in the doorway, looking pleased with himself.

_Where else would I be?_

Radon himself was aiming for a higher position. He _liked_ bringing in the recruits, but he wanted more power. Marsh was sure that was why he kept himself involved with each recruit more than was strictly necessary.

He’d also gone through Radon’s desk draw when the obligator hadn’t been looking – Radon was trying very hard to gain his superiors’ attention. He wasn’t going to succeed. Marsh had found out that Radon wasn’t a Misting, and the Ministry had a habit of promoting only Mistings above a certain level.

‘I’m nearly through the morning’s reports, my lord,’ Marsh said.

‘Yes, yes, well, that may need to be passed on to someone else. Do you remember that project I mentioned on your first day?’

_Vividly_.

‘The top secret one, my lord?’

‘That’s the one. I forgot I said that. I really shouldn’t have, but you’re one of the best recruits I’ve had in… quite a while.’

Marsh smiled and pretended to take the compliment with pride. So, Radon was hoping to use him to further his own ambitions. Good. Better that Radon move the spotlight onto himself, leaving Marsh to gather information, while also giving him important projects.

He’d have to humour Radon as much as possible.

Radon came into the room properly, but didn’t take a seat.

‘Now, the project is run entirely by our Canton, but we do borrow obligators from other Cantons. It requires a lot of Allomancers, you see.’

Enough Allomancers that the Canton of Inquisition couldn’t provide them all…?

Marsh nodded, to prompt Radon to continue.

‘Right,’ Radon said, ‘well, it involves small teams posted at specially chosen locations in the skaa areas of the city.’

‘The _skaa_ areas, my lord?’

‘I bet you’re wondering what Allomancers could have to do with the skaa, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, my lord.’

_Not so much Allomancers,_ Marsh thought, _as so_ many _Allomancers. In the slums? Why?_

‘These station, we call them Soothing stations,’ said Radon.

‘Soothing stations,’ Marsh repeated, and the obligator nodded several times.

‘Of course, there aren’t _just_ Soothers there but… I’m getting ahead of myself.’ Radon shook his head. ‘The Soothing stations are to keep the Skaa under control. Just an extra little measure to prevent them from getting rowdy.’

_Maybe we wouldn’t get ‘rowdy’ if you treated us like people_ , Marsh grumbled silently. Hopefully Radon would explain that statement quickly, because otherwise Marsh was going to have to rifle through his paperwork again. He couldn’t leave something like that unanswered.

The very name of the stations held implications that Marsh didn’t like. Soothers. In the context of keeping the skaa under control.

‘But the skaa in Luthadel have never been a problem,’ Marsh said, keeping his tone nice and polite. ‘Everyone knows the skaa here know their place.’

‘They do,’ Radon agreed, ‘and we ensure it _stays_ that way. The stations are positions strategically around the city, each manned by a team of Allomancers, and we have our Soothers there all day everyday keeping the skaa from getting ideas. Making them just that little bit more obedient.’

Marsh started to frown, and stopped himself, adopting an expression of interest.

_Making them obedient_ …

Soothing the Skaa in Luthadel, with strategically placed teams of Ministry Soothers. Radon was smiling. Marsh wanted to punch him. No. Marsh wanted to _kill_ him.

‘The team also includes a Smoker, naturally,’ Radon said. ‘These stations are, as I say, top secret. But, and here’s the part I’m sure you’ll be most interested in; we also post Seekers there.’

‘Seekers?’ Marsh asked, not trusting himself with a longer response. He had to say _something_ , though, anything to keep Radon talking. Giving him information.

‘Yes, Seekers. The Soothers keep the Skaa compliant, the Smokers keep the station hidden, and the Seekers find those abusing Allomancy. You’d be surprised at the numbers of part-breed skaa we end up finding as Mistings.’

Marsh felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Seekers. Hidden in Skaa areas of the city. How many Skaa had died because of them? How many innocent people?

‘And these are spread throughout Luthadel?’ he asked. ‘That must be incredibly efficient for there to be a noticeable difference in skaa here than in other cities.’

He hoped he sounded admiring.

‘It is, it is.’ Radon sounded pleased. ‘We’ve been very proud of the results. The system occasionally needs a little bit of tweaking, naturally, with population density changes and all that, but it _has_ been successful.’

Radon gestured for Marsh to follow him from the office, and Marsh hurried to obey.

_Where are these Soothing stations?_

Marsh wanted to shake the man to get answers. He couldn’t do that. Radon had to believe he supported the project whole-heartedly. If he was actually going to allow Marsh to work on it… that was an unbelievable stroke of luck.

Unfortunate Inquisitor visit aside, Marsh was glad he’d been honest about being a Seeker.

‘It certainly has,’ Marsh agreed. ‘It’s an inspired use of the Ministry’s Allomancers.’

It was. It made him sick just thinking about it. And furious. Furious that the Ministry would do this. Take away even more autonomy from the Skaa, as if they hadn’t done enough already.

Now… exactly _how_ eager should he appear about the project? It was _vital_ that he get included – the more information the better – but how eager could he be without raising suspicions?

‘I thought you might say that,’ Radon said, beaming. ‘We don’t have a specific opening for a Seeker at one of the stations right at the moment. However, I’ve been told that we’re thinking about expanding and there have even been arguments for posting more than one Seeker at each station. With a Seeker skill and range like yours… ah, well, I’d better let Careli explain it to you. He’ll be your direct superior on the project. Here we go.’

Radon led Marsh into another office, where an obligator sat behind his desk.

An obligator with very detailed tattoos. The tattoos of a prelan.

The prelan nodded to Radon and then studied Marsh thoughtfully. ‘You’d be our newest Seeker, then?’

‘Yes, my lord,’ Marsh said, with a small bow; as was the protocol when first introduced to a more senior member of the Canton.

‘Good. I’ve seen your testing results and I’m impressed.’ Careli shuffled some papers on his desk. ‘You’ll be an excellent addition to our team. I’m sure Radon will have impressed on you the secrecy involved in this project?’

‘He has,’ Marsh confirmed. ‘I understand it’s something that’s to be kept as quiet as possible.’

The Ministry had been doing a frighteningly efficient job of that. Marsh had never so much as caught a hint of the Soothing stations, and neither had Kelsier.

Kelsier. Marsh was going to have to get this information to him as soon as possible. If he waited, he’d almost certainly have more detail to report. Yet, Marsh wasn’t prepared to risk that. If he waited to pass the information on, there was always the chance he would be found and killed.

Better to report information back as soon as he gathered it. Then if Marsh died, only a minimum of information would die with him.

‘In fact, it’s something I’d rather you not discuss even with people with in the Canton,’ Careli said. ‘Most know about it in some capacity, of course, but the less discussed the better. You will only mention it with those who you’re directly working with.’

Marsh nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘Due to the sensitivity, any breach – or even suspected breach – of these instructions will lead to Inquisitor involvement.’

_Wonderful_.

Marsh felt a threat like that would have more weight if there weren’t already a dozen different things about him that could lead to ‘Inquisitor involvement’.

He saw Radon shudder a little.

‘I will follow any and all instructions to the letter,’ Marsh said.

Careli nodded as if he’d expected nothing less.

‘First I want you to get a feel for how the stations work. I have a report on the process, which I expect you to read through in detail, but you’ll be visiting one tomorrow – with Radon here – after the ceremony. And another two days from now. The location is included in the report. You will go there under darkness, and you will write down your observations of their processes and learn from their Seeker. Understood?’

The ceremony. A major ceremony to take place in Kredik Shaw. Marsh had only been informed of it the day before. But, compared to the Soothing stations Marsh told himself it wasn’t important. It was Kredik Shaw, certainly, but it was his own fear that made that a problem. He could cope with that.

‘Understood.’

They were moving him in quickly, but then Marsh was quickly learning that the Ministry was extremely well organised. He’d assumed the rivalries would slow them down, disrupt them. It didn’t. They worked around it.

Perhaps the Lord Ruler stepped in if he thought things were getting out of hand. Marsh hoped not. Being in the same room as an Inquisitor was bad enough.

Either way, he sensed an opportunity to meet with Kelsier. It sounded like he would be travelling alone to the second Soothing station. There wouldn’t be a lot of leeway, but if Marsh could arrange a place to meet Kelsier on his way there... that could work.

The Canton of Inquisition kept its Obligators busy. Marsh wasn’t sure when another opening would turn up and he really couldn’t wait.

Soothing stations. Manipulating the Skaa, concealing Seekers…

Finding out about them was a solid start, but Marsh needed to know where they were.

All of them.

_________________________

 

Marsh arrived at the Canton of Inquisition early.

It was a conscious decision, made because if Marsh didn’t decide to arrive early, he tended to always, somehow, be late. As the obligators – from all Cantons – were attending the prayer and ceremony at Kredik Shaw that morning, being late would have been a bad idea.

Anyway, arriving early also played into his appearance of being overly eager in worship.

Radon was already there, standing in the foyer of the Canton with the other assembling obligators. Marsh made his way over. The newest recruits would stay by Radon and follow his lead, and Marsh was pleased to note that he was the first of the recruits to arrive.

‘Ah, I thought you might be here soon,’ Radon said, smiling.

Marsh nodded to him and watched as the grey cloaked obligators slowly began to fill the foyer.

The same would be happening in the other Cantons. The obligators from the Canton of Resource, located across the canal, would probably already be on their way.

The headquarters for the Canton of Inquisition, however, was right next to Kredik Shaw – Marsh could see the foreboding black spires out of his office window. He had no wish to get any closer.

With no way out of the ceremony, that wish meant very little.

All too soon the prelans moved, heading towards the exit, and the entire Canton of Inquisition followed. Marsh moved with them, alongside the other new recruits, hemmed in by a crowd of rustling cloaks as they passed across to Kredik Shaw.

There was barely time to take in the collection of spires overshadowing the crowd, reaching up into the sky, and then they passed through the gate-like doors and Marsh was within Kredik Shaw itself.

Hundreds of obligators moved in behind him, blocking the exit. Forward. No other choice but to press on.

The river of grey cloaks flowed through the corridors of Kredik Shaw, swishing against the polished stone floors. An ordered mass of hooded obligators, moving as though they were one giant creature, with Marsh in the middle of them.

They flowed out from the restricted corridors, passing underneath a wide arched doorway and into a massive great hall, decorated with all manner of religious symbols. A huge window dominated the other end of the hall. Such a large window should have let light steam in, but it faced the wrong direction, its view showing only the clustered spires of Kredik Shaw that jutted out around them, providing a forbidding black background to the room.

The ceiling was high, high enough to give the impression of begin outside, yet under a polished metal sky.

The obligators fanned out into the room, staying in Cantons, with the Canton of Orthodoxy filling up the front. Past them Marsh could make out a shining gold alter. And ornate arched doorways to each side of the front of the hall.

Silence descended as movement from the obligators ceased.

Not a single person spoke.

Black shadows glided out from the ornate archways. Figures cloaked and hooded in black, moving with an unnatural grace and balance.

Inquisitors. Nine Inquisitors.

They formed up in a line in front of the gold alter, facing out towards the obligators, Kredik Shaw’s spires reaching up behind them.  The Inquisitors on each end held a small bowl full of glittering triangular razors.

As one, the nine of them reached up and removed their hoods, spike eyes glinted in the fire light.

As one, the entire mass of obligators mirrored the movement.

Instantly, Marsh felt unmasked, the hood robbing him of his anonymity . He felt like a spotlight was upon him, an imposter among thousands of believers. A traitor. A skaa.

He stood tall, trying to rid himself of the illusion. He was almost a head taller than the obligator to his right, and yet he knew trying to make himself seem smaller would only _draw_ attention. He had to stand proud, as an obligator of the Canton of Inquisition.

And then the chanting started. Coming from a thousand voices, filling the room, echoing off the vast ceiling. Marsh pretended to join in, but he didn’t recognise the prayer. He told himself no one could notice. Not among the rest.

The chanting rose and fell in intensity, rolling through the room as a single unstoppable sound. As tangible as the rows of grey cloaks.

When it finally quieted, it was because the Lord Prelan stepped forward, emerging from the section of the Canton of Orthodoxy. He moved out towards the Inquisitors, bowed, and took his position, the black cloaked figures looming out behind him.

As soon as he stopped, the rustle of cloaks sounded out from each Canton as first the High Prelans and then the prelans moved out towards the front of the room. They stopped short, and the Inquisitors glided off to the sides, allowing the obligators to take the centre of the hall.

The Inquisitors began their own chanting, their terrible, rasping voices carrying clearly across the room.

Following a script that Marsh had not read, the crowd of obligators bowed their heads, eyes averted to the marble floor.

The chants stopped again and the hushed silence returned.

The rustle of cloaks signalled movement on the stage. Measured movement. Smooth. Rehearsed. Accompanied by the soft clink of metal.

Marsh could see none of it, just the polished marble floor and the grey cloak of the obligator standing in front of him. He itched to know what was going on. To raise his head to keep an eye on those nine Inquisitors. He couldn’t do it.

He could not be the single face staring out from a crowd of bowed heads.

When the obligators did raise their heads, as one, the prelans had retaken their positions… and there was blood on the alter.

A different chant started and the Inquisitors spread out around the outside of the room, still staring in towards the obligators, like predators, just waiting for the prey to try and move.

The prelans turned, facing the vast window, and the Soothing intensified, making Marsh feel small, alone, and defeated. He flinched inwardly.

The figure, dressed all in black, approached from the front left archway. A young man, exuding power. The Lord Ruler. God.

The obligators knelt in a wave that spread out from the prelans and across each Canton section. Only once all the obligators were down did the Inquisitors lower their heads in a bow.

The Lord Ruler surveyed them all, in silence. Then the Inquisitors moved, walking back to the front before heading directly for the obligators. Fear was dull, struggling to penetrate through the defeated fog of Marsh’s emotions.

The obligators parted, standing and stepping to either side as the black cloaks stepped through. Then they bowed their heads again, now all facing the walkway made through the centre of the room.

The rustle from the Inquisitors cloaks stopped about half way down the hall, and a new prayer started. More melodic, but led by the rough growl from the Inquisitors, giving the whole thing a disturbing dissonance.

It continued on, reverberating through the room.

Footsteps penetrated it. Steady, confident footsteps, moving from the front of the room, slowly, _slowly_ through the parted obligators. And the Inquisitors moved on, still in prayer, heading out through the hall, stopping by the door the obligators had entered through, an honour guard for their God.

The Soothing eased. Never quite disappearing, but making it possible to think once again.

A brief appearance only, to examine the members of his church.

After the Lord Ruler’s departure, the chanting, prayers and ceremony continued, dragging on for another hour. Taxing Marsh’s concentration as he struggled to appear to know his role. Thankfully the new recruits were not expected to do much.

They departed the same way they’d came. The river of grey cloaks shifting down the corridors of Kredik Shaw and out through the ornate doors. 

Out on to the streets of Luthadel, the red sun shining down upon them.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

Marsh and Radon walked in silence through the mists.

No talking about the Soothing stations outside of Ministry buildings, and Marsh wasn’t one for small talk. He suspected Radon was, however, so it seemed only a matter of time. That was a slight problem, because Marsh wasn’t sure how many conversations he could have with the obligator before Radon realised Marsh didn’t like him.

He knew he could be a little… terse, even with people he did like. Kell used to tease him about it, when they were younger.

Marsh burnt bronze, feeling more welcomed by the night as the mists twisted and curled around him.

It was hard to see them as sinister, using Allomancy.

Radon was watching him, and Marsh nearly extinguished his bronze because of it.

Clearly, Radon wanted to be a Misting, since it probably would have got him his promotion. As it stood Radon did seem to like Marsh, but Marsh knew very well what jealousy could do to that.

‘Being a Tineye would be useful, don’t you think?’ Radon asked, looking away from Marsh and squinting into the mists.

‘It would,’ Marsh agreed. ‘I can barely see a few paces ahead.’

Not that it mattered. He knew the skaa slums of Luthadel like the back of his hand.

‘Underrated skill,’ Radon said, ‘being a Tineye.’

_Underrated skill,_ Marsh thought, _being a Seeker_.

That wasn’t the case in the Ministry, though. The Ministry _wanted_ Seekers, to test its incoming recruits and to find mixed blood skaa. Like Marsh.

Being a Tineye… that wasn’t underrated among the skaa. Having a lookout was vital. Mare had been a Tineye.

‘It certainly is,’ Marsh said, trying to inject some feeling into his voice.

He could see Radon watching the curling mists out of the corner of his eye, but was he watching with jealousy? Or still thinking that any success Marsh had would reflect on him?

‘Have you been with the Ministry long?’ Marsh asked.

‘Most my life,’ Radon said, nodding. ‘I was actually one of the younger recruits. It’s very rewarding work, bringing new people into the Canton, and making sure we arrange everyone to make the most of their abilities. I like to think it’s my work that keeps the Canton of Inquisition as one of the most efficient Cantons.’

_And yet you search for a promotion._

‘You’re probably right,’ said Marsh. ‘The Canton can only work effectively if it uses its resources well.’

Radon smiled. ‘Ah, we’re here.’

It was impossible to tell that they had, in fact, arrived at their destination. The building looked almost derelict from the outside – Marsh himself had passed it many times and thought nothing of it.

_Did I ever burn my bronze around here? How close did I come to being caught? How many others weren’t so lucky?_

He and Radon stepped inside… and were greeted by a completely empty room that appeared just as unused as the rest of the building.

Radon stopped, turned to him and opened his mouth, at the exact same moment that Marsh asked:

‘Why are you stopping?’

Radon paused. ‘Well, I was going to explain that the Soothing station is absolutely here, it’s just that we use the central room in the building.’

_Yes. Obviously_.

Although, from the look on Radon’s face, Marsh had perhaps been a little too harsh in his reply. He gave an inward sigh. He was supposed to be _friendly_ with Radon.

‘Presumably so that the light can’t be seen from the outside,’ Marsh said, this time trying to keep the exasperation out of his tone.

‘Yes, yes, exactly.’ Radon seemed only slightly put out as they continued to the Soothing station, where four obligators waited.

Marsh sensed no Allomantic pulses, and wondered which one was the Smoker.

One of the obligators came up and shook his hand. ‘Welcome,’ she said, ‘to Luthadel’s most effective Soothing station.’

Radon smiled warmly and introduced her as Obligator Renma. A Soother.

‘The most _effective_ Soothing station?’ Marsh asked.

‘Oh yes,’ Renma said, cheerfully. ‘We’re officially the Soothing station that’s gone the longest with no major disturbance in our area.’

_So you’re particularly good at crushing people’s hopes._

‘Haven’t found any Allomancers for a while, mind you,’ grumbled an obligator from the corner of the room. ‘Makes it a bit boring here.’

_Good._

‘You’re the Seeker of the team?’

‘Yeah, and you’re a Seeker too. I sensed _you_ coming. Good thing I knew what time to expect you, or I might have reported you to the Inquisitors.’

The Seeker chuckled. Marsh didn’t.

‘The next station we’re sending you to has had the most Allomancer activity around it recently,’ Radon put in. ‘So, who knows, maybe you’ll even find us a skaa Allomancer?’

_Lord Ruler, that’s going to be a nightmare._ _I won’t be able to lie, either, if there’s another Seeker there._

‘That would certainly be a good start,’ Marsh said.

‘Yeah, although we’re more concerned about keeping the population quiet at the moment,’ Renma said. ‘After what happened at Holstep. Can’t have the skaa getting ideas from it.’

‘I don’t think that’s likely,’ Marsh said. ‘Didn’t they all die?’

He’d almost said; _weren’t they all killed?_ but decided it sounded a little too sympathetic. They _had_ all been killed, for nothing.

Renma laughed. ‘That’s one way of looking at it. They _tried_ though, and the skaa aren’t supposed to do that.’

‘The executions will keep them in line,’ said the Seeker. ‘Not tomorrow, but the day after, right?’

‘That’s right,’ Radon said. ‘A terrible disruption to our work. Why _we_ all have to turn up to watch it is beyond me. The message is to the skaa.’

_No, the message is to everyone in the Final Empire. And it’s significantly more terrible for the innocent people who’ve been taken randomly to prove the point, not to mention their families who are made to watch._

‘No disruption for us,’ Renma said. ‘Too much risk involved with moving everyone from the Soothing stations to the square. We’ll just stay here all day and Soothe the empty buildings.’

_And the thieving crews who don’t attend the executions._

Marsh wondered how he was going to handle watching the executions while standing among a bunch of bored obligators. Not well, probably.

‘Anyway,’ said Renma, turning to Marsh. ‘As you can see, we keep four people to this Soothing station most of the time. It’s not _vital_ for us to have a Seeker of course –

‘Thank you,’ said the Seeker sourly.

‘ – but given that we have a Smoker it’s a good opportunity. With two Soothers here, we find we have a pretty good coverage, but most of the stations, particularly in more densely populated areas, have three.’

‘I suppose that depends on how many Soothers we have available,’ Marsh said.

‘Pretty much. We take Allomancers from all Cantons.’

Marsh glanced over at the Seeker, whose tattoos were from the Canton of Resource.

‘Yeah, I’m not from Inquisition,’ the man said. ‘But, despite what Renma said, us Seekers are _necessary_ here. It’s a great way of catching mixed blood skaa unawares.’

Of course Renma would imply he wasn’t needed simply because he was from another Canton. Obligator politics.

Marsh itched to ask exactly how many Soothing stations there were – because the Seeker was _right_ – but it was vital he didn’t seem to suspicious. Particularly not before he’d told Kelsier about the Soothing stations.

He could ask Radon later.

‘Yeah, okay,’ Renma said. ‘We _all_ do good work here.’

Marsh was feeling a little more impressed than he’d expected, actually. The place was mostly disturbing, and the very idea of it continued to disgust him, but it _was_ impressive the way the Ministry kept it hidden he just hadn’t expected –

He was _suspiciously_ impressed with their work.

Someone was Pushing on his emotions, dampening down everything _but_ that.

And if Marsh had been who they expected, he probably never would have noticed. Thankfully, the Soother, whichever one it was, had no reason to believe Marsh would be angry. Far angrier than impressed.

It was a sharp reminder that he needed to watch himself.

These people were skilled. Did they spend _all_ their time Soothing the city?

It looked like it. The same obligators would do shifts among the Soothing stations, trained and familiar with the work. And, very, _very_ skilled at it.

Marsh and Radon would be staying at the Soothing station for a few hours, and Marsh intended to spent that time _exactly_ as the Ministry wanted him to. By finding out how the Soothing stations operated.

___________________________

 

Marsh sat at a desk with Radon and another older obligator named Eliar.

‘I learnt a few interesting things from the Inquisitor today,’ Eliar said to Radon. ‘Looks like they’re making another play at the Lord Prelan.’

Marsh looked up, paying close attention. The obligators were careful in their talk about Inquisitors – it tended to be in whispers, and when they were sure the Inquisitors weren’t around.

That was limiting the amount of information Marsh could get on them. He’d barely got any more than what he’d learnt on the journey back to Luthadel.

And he’d only seen the one Inquisitor. It wouldn’t stay that way, not if he was to be seeing Eliar regularly. Obligator Eliar’s main job was to deliver the Soothing station’s information to the Inquisitors – that is, leads on Allomancers.

Radon grimaced. ‘On what basis this time?’

‘Don’t know, couldn’t find out.’

‘They’ll fail, of course,’ Radon said. ‘They always do. Can’t have those creatures running the church.’ He shot a nervous glance at the door and lowered his voice further. ‘Personally, I feel much better knowing it’s one of us at the top, you know?’

‘I do,’ Eliar said. ‘I really do. Give me the shivers, those things.’

Marsh made sure to lower his voice appropriately, and asked; ‘So the Inquisitors want the power of the Lord Prelan?’

Eliar nodded. ‘They go to the Lord Ruler every so often, kick up a fuss about it.’

The Inquisitors wanted more power. A mildly disturbing fact, but not a surprising one.

And the more he saw of the Ministry the more he realised it was made up of dozens of different power plays. He’d pass that along, of course. Friction and rivalries could be exploited. Perhaps not with the same results you could get by inflaming those among the nobility, but important nevertheless.

This definitely explained the Canton of Inquisitions reticence to be too openly competitive with the Canton of Orthodoxy. They wanted to be in charge, that was certain, but the highest level of the Canton of Inquisition was the Inquisitors, and no one seemed to want them to be the highest level of the Lord Ruler’s church.

Marsh hesitated, and then leaned forward. ‘You said you often report to the Inquisitors?’

‘Yes.’ Eliar sighed. ‘It’s an important job, but it can be a little stressful sometimes.’

Radon gave a little nervous laugh.

‘I was wondering,’ Marsh said, keeping his voice low, ‘I’ve heard a lot of rumours about the Inquisitors…’

‘And you want a few answering,’ Eliar said. ‘Don’t we all? Ask away – I get this all the time, particularly from new recruits.’

‘No one I’ve spoken to seems to be able to agree on whether they’re Mistborn,’ Marsh said. ‘Some of them are… I, well, I was interviewed by one on my arrival and I was burning bronze, but are they _all_?'

‘Oh, they are,’ Eliar said. ‘Strong Mistborn too. Incredibly strong. I can’t explain _that_ , but it’s how it is. But, before you ask, I’ve no idea how they live with those spikes.’

‘They go right through their heads,’ Marsh said. ‘It’s - ’

‘Creepy,’ Radon said, very quietly.

‘Inhuman,’ said Marsh, hoping that would provoke a comment or two.

‘Mmm. Well, they _were_ human, once.’ Eliar shivered.

Marsh frowned as though this were completely new information. ‘Surely not.’

‘They were,’ Eliar insisted. ‘But we don’t like to talk about that. Besides, I _am_ expecting one here today so, uh, let’s not talk too loudly about them.’

_We don’t like to talk about that… Okay. What could be worse than a knowing Mistborn becomes one of those things?_

There was something there that Marsh would probably be more comfortable _not_ knowing. And yet. Understanding how the Inquisitors came to be could provide clues to how to kill them.

Except Marsh certainly didn’t want an Inquisitor finding him asking those sorts of questions, so he said nothing further.

‘Lots of tension among the Houses lately,’ Radon said eventually.

‘Yes, I’ve been passing a lot of that information on to the Inquisitors as well,’ Eliar said. ‘They don’t seem overly interested.’

‘Well, _I’m_ interested,’ said Radon. ‘It’s going to have a devastating effect on our recruitment. If you look at our history, House Wars always do.’

‘It increases loyalties within Houses,’ Marsh said, nodding.

He hadn’t really considered that effect on the Ministry. If Kelsier could provoke a long House war, it could seriously weaken the Steel Ministry for a while – or rather it would weaken the Cantons. Whether it would have any effect on the Inquisitors or Lord Ruler was doubtful. The Lord Ruler had weathered many, _many_ House wars.

He encouraged them.

‘Yes, and makes my job harder even if it just stays as tension, which we sincerely hope it does, of course.’ Radon shook his head. ‘We really don’t want a major House War.’

‘Is it heading that way?’ Marsh asked.

There was a brief pause as both obligators seemed to think that over.

‘It _could_ ,’ Eliar said finally. ‘But probably not. Luthadel hasn’t seen a significant House War in a long time.’

_Which is why Kell thinks we’re due one. He may well be right._

It left a gaping hole in the plan of what was supposed to happen during the House War, which was really bothering Marsh. A House War would not leave the skaa untouched, so his brother had better have some kind of plan to use it, rather than just wanting chaos for revenge.

He probably still hoped to steal the Lord Ruler’s atium, because failing twice would not put Kelsier off. It would make him more determined.

And… Kelsier didn’t just want revenge. Nor to stroke his ego – although Marsh suspected both were still a part of it. When he’d first spoken to Kell about the plan… it was for Mare. Kelsier hadn’t quite said it specifically, not _quite_ , but it was.

Mare had always dreamed of a different world. One where no ash fell from the sky. One with green plants.

That was, of course, impossible. But it seemed Kell wanted to give her the next best thing by overthrowing the Lord Ruler.

Which was also impossible, at the present time, but, for once, Marsh found it difficult to fault his brother’s reasoning. His methods, yes. But not his reasoning.

‘One more thing,’ Radon said. ‘What do the Inquisitors think of this Survivor of Hathsin business?’

Marsh glanced over at him.

‘Oh.’ Eliar frowned. ‘They haven’t said anything, but I’m hearing more and more reports about him. And something about an Eleventh Metal – some particularly odd rumours about that, but it will probably all settle down when we find and execute him. Publically, I think would be best.’

Marsh winced.

‘Surely better to do it nice and quietly, so that he just vanishes, as if abandoning his followers?’ Radon asked.

‘Could be.’ Eliar shrugged. ‘It won’t be my decision, anyway.’

_Congratulations, Kelsier. You’re even famous among the Ministry._

Typical Kell. Marsh hoped he had some idea of what he was doing with this little scheme as well. Vin had been concerned about it, but Marsh still didn’t think it was too much of a concern. It was just Kell, being Kell.

Radon and Marsh took their leave from Eliar and set out through the Canton.

‘Tomorrow,’ Radon said. ‘There’s the executions. Hours it takes.’ He sighed. ‘My paperwork’s going to build up like you wouldn’t believe.’

Marsh tried not to react to that. Innocent skaa were going to be murdered, and Radon worried about his paperwork.

He was excused from having to think up a polite response when Radon suddenly flinched backwards, and bowed.

Marsh turned sharply, and there was an Inquisitor _right behind him_. Its black robes stood out starkly in the pristine Ministry building, its spiked gaze was fixed firmly on the two of them.

‘My lord,’ Marsh said, bowing.

The Inquisitor didn’t reply, but it’s gaze seemed to follow Marsh all the way down the corridor.

_____________________________

 

So much death.

Marsh stood among the other obligators, next to Radon and the other new recruits, in the middle of the square with a clear view as skaa after skaa were murdered.

So many of them were women and children. People who’d known nothing of the skaa army, nothing of the rebellion itself.

Like always.

Through it all the Lord Ruler’s Soothing pressed down on Marsh in a constant blanket of hopelessness. It was suffocating. It was all consuming. It was… probably doing Marsh a favour.

He stood among the people who upheld this empire. They stood there, around him, and how many of them were bored? Feeling inconvenienced that they would be behind on their duties? Was there a single one of them who looked up at the raised platform, at the rivers of blood, and saw actual people dying?

No, if Marsh hadn’t had the Lord Ruler Pushing his emotions down he doubted he could have kept his feelings off his face.

Not with the fountains running red from skaa blood.

Hundreds of people.

Four at a time.

Marsh watched them all. Looking away seemed disrespectful. Especially because it was Kelsier’s plan that had triggered their deaths.

Marsh didn’t blame Kell for the executions, though. This was how the Final Empire reacted to resistance, _any_ resistance.

That was not Kelsier’s fault.

That was all down to the Lord Ruler.

And the monster who would call himself God never even left his carriage.

The axes rose and fell, spraying blood, and he did not watch what he had caused. Marsh wished the rebellion was strong enough. The Lord Ruler’s Soothing made believing that even harder than usual. Standing in that square it was almost impossible to believe that the Final Empire was _not_ eternal.

_It isn’t_ , Marsh told himself firmly. _Nothing is. There was a time before the Lord Ruler and there will be a time after. Eventually._

But not here. And not now.

_So much death…_

The axes rose and fell, the Inquisitors barely pausing in their work.

_They were people once. Nobles. Mistborn. Are they chosen for their fascination with death?_

Hours passed. The square now smelt of blood and death, and Marsh found the stench nauseating. He’d never been so close to it all before.

And then finally, _finally_ it was over and Marsh had to move off with the Lord Ruler like a good little obligator.

_I don’t think you’ll succeed, Kell, but I hope you do as much damage to this Empire as you can. For all these people, as well as Mare._

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

The sun was going down, and Marsh was late. Later, even, than usual.

He jogged along steadily, grey obligator robe flapping around him. He stood out. An obligator jogging through the skaa district was _bound_ to stand out. Not that the skaa would do anything about it. No one in their right mind would approach the Ministry and stick their nose into obligator business – well. Except Marsh.

It wasn’t the skaa he was worried about. He’d just been allowed in on a top secret project. There was a very real possibility that the Ministry had someone watching him.

And he’d just met with two skaa Mistborn.

_Kell would have scouted out the area, and I saw no one. I’m sure it was fine._

Turning up late to the Soothing station was less fine. Obligators were supposed to be _punctual_.

Marsh wondered if he could claim he’d got lost. He was pretending to be new to Luthadel, after all, and this _was_ the skaa slums.

He thought back to his brother’s parting words.

_‘Be careful.’_

For once, it hadn’t had the old undertone of _or you’ll get us both killed_. It could have. Kell had to be aware of the dangers of Marsh being caught by an Inquisitor. Hathsin had changed Kelsier quite a lot, it seemed.

Marsh felt a brief flash of regret for his harsh words in the thieving lair. That hadn’t been fair to Kelsier – true, perhaps – but not fair. It was just that… for a moment, when he’d heard Kelsier had survived, Marsh had hoped Mare had too.

When he’d found that she hadn’t… That was one wound he doubted would ever heal.

And he needed to banish those thoughts before he reached the Soothing station. The day’s executions had already inflamed his fury towards the Ministry, and he knew he’d need his wits about him to keep the other obligators from noticing.

Marsh slowed to a walk as he approached the station, making sure he got his breath back. Bad enough that he arrived late. Worse if they knew he’d been running and _still_ arrived late.

He ducked through the doorway and into the building. It was much bigger than the other one, and didn’t appear quite so broken down, a man waited in a doorway and Marsh strode over to him.

‘Obligator Thaene,’ the man said. ‘I’m the Seeker of the team. We’re up on the second floor – I promise it’s more stable than it seems.’

_Given that this is the team that’s detected most Allomancers lately, does that make you the person who’s directly responsible for giving skaa to the Inquisitors._

Marsh forced himself to smile. ‘It would have to be.’ 

He followed Thaene up the stairs, burning bronze.

_________________________

 

He’d had to reveal a Misting. That wore on Marsh in the days following his second Soothing station visit. A Misting Rioter, wandering the streets in a skaa slum, burning zinc where they thought it was safe to do so.

The report had been passed through to Eliar, Marsh had written it himself. He’d been tempted to simply remove all mention of the Rioter… except that would certainly have been noticed. The report had included a sealed note from Thaene – a report on Marsh himself. Exactly why the Inquisitors wanted _that_ was a mystery, and not one Marsh liked the look of.

As for the Rioter…Marsh’s only consolation was that the other Seeker had noticed them too, and had apparently done so before. They’d already known there was a skaa Misting around the station. Marsh still couldn’t shake the horror of knowing the Inquisitors would be in the area soon enough, hunting them.

How many other Mistings had been found around Soothing stations Marsh didn’t yet know about?

_We need to know where those Seekers are_.

Kelsier’s words. Not that Marsh had needed telling.

He hadn’t been able to find out. There was a list somewhere, the problem was: Marsh didn’t know _where_. As soon as he found out, he’d have no choice but to take the risk – find it, and steal it. Until then… he had to keep working. Keep the Ministry thinking he was a loyal obligator.

And he had to try and find out more about the Inquisitors.

That was proving extremely difficult. _No one_ liked to talk about them. Oh, they’d answer the odd question, but then swiftly end the conversation.

Marsh studied the file in front of him. It had come from Eliar’s desk – Marsh had swiped it when he’d handed over the Soothing station’s information. Eliar had left the room with Marsh, and gone in the opposite direction, so Marsh had taken the opportunity to double back.

Hopefully he’d have a chance to put it back before Eliar discovered it missing.

It hadn’t been as useful as Marsh had hoped. It wasn’t about the Soothing stations, it was simply a collection of information about the impeding House War, which was putting the Ministry on edge. The Canton of Inquisition wanted Kredik Shaw to be aware that they thought, unless swift action was taken, that the House War was inevitable.

The file showed that neither the Inquisitors nor the Lord Ruler seemed particularly interested.

Essentially, the response Eliar was receiving back from the Inquisitors was that the Lord Ruler wasn’t bothered about it and therefore they should trust that their God knew best.

Interesting, that the Inquisitors seemed so much more loyal to the Lord Ruler than the obligators. That… didn’t make sense to Marsh.

On the surface it did. They were powerful and the enforcers of the Final Empire and therefore vital that they served its interests without question. And yet. They were all Mistborn. In the time Marsh had been at the Ministry he had not met, nor even heard of, a single Mistborn obligator.

That _did_ make sense. The noble Houses hardly wanted to give up their greatest assets, and nobles were expected to cut all House allegiances when joining the Ministry.

_So where do the Inquisitors come from?_ Marsh wondered, closing the file.

Noble Houses would not even offer its Mistborn to the Ministry. How did they gather such loyal recruits from Mistborn to become Inquisitors?

It wouldn’t take many. There didn’t seem to be many Inquisitors in all of the Final Empire – although Marsh was failing to pin down an exact number. Not many, but it would take _some_ and Marsh just didn’t understand where they got them from.

_It can’t be involuntary, they’re too loyal_.

Marsh shuddered to think exactly how the process took place, but he also struggled to imagine how such a thing could be undertaken voluntarily.

It did not make sense.

_I’ll have to ask someone eventually, but Eliar’s already refused to talk about the process._

To go above Eliar, or to try the lower level obligators? Less risk involved with the lower ranks, but also less chance of success. And not really that much less risk. An ambitious lower ranked obligator may report anything even slightly suspicious in the hope it would gain them a promotion.

The door opened and Marsh’s head snapped up as an obligator he didn’t know appeared in the doorway.

_There’s a stolen file on my desk…_

‘Prelan Careli wants to see you,’ the obligator said.

Had Eliar already noticed the file’s absence and connected it to Marsh?

After stashing the file among his own papers, Marsh headed up the stairs to the prelan’s office, wondering if there’d be an Inquisitor waiting for him. Stealing a useless file was such a pointless way to get caught.

Prelan Careli glanced up as Marsh entered the room. ‘Take a seat.’

Careli’s expression wasn’t giving much away, but there wasn’t an Inquisitor which was always good.

‘I’ve been through your notes on the Soothing stations,’ Careli said. ‘And I have to say we’re impressed. You’ve quickly demonstrated a solid understanding of how our Soothing stations operate and why there is a need for them.’

_There isn’t a need for them. Nothing excuses that._

At least the meeting wasn’t about Eliar’s missing file. Marsh knew he’d have to find a way to get it back in Eliar’s office as soon as Careli was done with him.

‘What are your thoughts on the impact of the growing House tensions on the skaa population?’ Careli asked.

Marsh frowned. ‘I imagine… the effects will be negative. A House War would have a devastating effect on the entire city, and the tensions are blatant enough now that even the skaa will be aware of them. Is this about the proposed plan for more Soothing stations, my lord?’

‘Ah. It’s been mentioned to you. I suppose I should have expected that.’ Careli selected a sheet of paper from his drawer. ‘Yes, it is about the plan for more Soothing stations, which is fully approved and will be moving ahead.’

_I’ll need to find the proposed locations as well as the existing ones_.

‘As I was saying, the other prelans and myself have been very impressed with your instinctive understanding of the project, and your Allomancy, and you’ll be brought fully into this stage.’

He’d caught the attention of the prelans again. It seemed there was simply no escaping it. Well, if the Ministry was determined to give Marsh contact with the higher levels, he’d just have to find a way to use it to his advantage.

‘It’s an honour to be involved in such an important part of the Canton, my lord,’ Marsh said.

‘We want you,’ Careli said, ‘to suggest new locations.’

Marsh digested that for a second. It was… perfect.

‘How many new stations do we have the people for?’

‘Three, possibly four,’ Careli said. ‘Two will be set up permanently, but at least one will simply be temporary for the duration of the current tensions. I have a small group of people working on this. I want your input on it, first individually, then you’ll work in pairs and for the final recommendations the entire group will prepare a report that I will pass on to the High Prelan.’

Marsh nodded slowly. A limited number of new stations. The Ministry only had so many Mistings, after all.

And something he was working on was headed straight to the High Prelan of Inquisition. It was bad enough to have the prelans looking at him, but the High Prelan of Inquisition…

Nothing he could do to stop it – Marsh needed that information. He’d just have to cope with the scrutiny.

‘Very well,’ he said, looking Careli straight in the eye. ‘I’ll need a list of all the existing Soothing stations, and locations that have already been dismissed – I assume there will be some. Maps would be best, if I’m to do this accurately, but I can work with a list. Population density figures will also be necessary.’

He tried not to hold his breath.

‘Absolutely,’ Careli said. ‘Some of that information is owned by other Cantons, I will be discussing it with them this afternoon. See me in this office, tomorrow morning.’

________________________

 

The promised list of Soothing stations was quite possibly the most important thing Marsh had ever set his sights on, so the next morning Marsh once again made the effort to be early.

Careli was in his office. So were three other obligators with intricate eye tattoos, stretching up over their ears.

‘The High Prelans of Inquisition, Finance and Resource,’ Careli introduced, indicating each High Prelan as he spoke.

Three High Prelans!

_Lord Ruler,_ thought Marsh. _What have I done? I must have seemed too eager…_

‘My lords,’ he said, bowing.

‘I’ve heard much about you,’ said the High Prelan of Resource. ‘A truly exceptional Seeker, with a genuine commitment to our Ministry and a mind as sharp as a razor.’

Marsh eyed him cautiously.

That hadn’t _sounded_ like sarcasm, and if these people actually believed their Ministry doctrine then they thought skaa to be stupid.

‘Thank you, my lord.’

When infiltrating, Marsh was certain the goal was to go largely unnoticed. In that, he seemed to have failed spectacularly.

‘I have agreed with Prelan Careli’s assertion that, despite being new to the Canton, you are the best person for the job,’ said the High Prelan of Inquisition. ‘As such, I spoke to my colleagues here and we have decided to give you the most appropriate information for you to achieve your goal quickly and efficiently.’

_I certainly hope it will_.

The High Prelan of Inquisition nodded to Careli, who picked up a roll of paper, set it down on the desk and uncurled it, placing a paper weight at each corner.

Marsh’s eyebrows shot up. It was a map. An _extensive_ map of Luthadel.

‘That’s… impressive,’ Marsh said.

The High Prelan of Resource nodded. ‘Maps such as this one are produced from information gathered by all the Cantons. It will suit your needs perfectly.’

‘Here,’ Careli said, pointing, ‘the Soothing stations are marked.’

Marsh leaned in, taking in the information swiftly. Lots of Soothing stations, mostly in the slums. More than he’d expected, and still they went to place more.

‘The map has population figures for you,’ Careli added, ‘and areas we’re currently looking at because of suspicious activity. _These_ indicate Inquisitors, I can’t say there’s too much pattern to those, so I wouldn’t worry about getting in their way.’

Marsh nodded. If there _was_ a pattern to it, he’d see that it was found.

‘Yes, this should work nicely.’ He looked up and bowed to the High Prelans again. ‘Thank you, my lords.’

They allowed him to leave the room with the map. That, in itself, was astounding to Marsh. Could they not see how much he wanted to get his hands on it? Did that not strike them as suspicious? Apparently not. Apparently they trusted him.

How had he, a halfbreed skaa Misting, managed to walk out of a meeting with _three_ High Prelans?

Marsh resisted the urge to look over his shoulder. They were _not_ following him.

_________________________

 

Back in his own office, Marsh went over the map with a critical eye. It was possible it was a trap, bait to see how he’d respond.

Except they really did seem to trust him.

Who _would_ expect to find a skaa Misting in the heart of the Steel Ministry?

The map was… exhaustive.

Marsh had never seen such detail on Luthadel, and there were the Soothing stations, dotted through Skaa areas, areas he’d assumed were safe, areas where the rebellion had smuggled skaa through many times. Sometimes skaa Mistings.

Detailed ministry notes accompanied it, and Marsh read through them carefully.

He sat back and regarded the map with a frown.

No, it was no fake. It was far too detailed for that, and Marsh could confirm some of the information on it.

Some of it, in fact, most of it, he could not. But that was good. It was new. The Inquisitors… Marsh’s frown deepened. Their attacks were marked, but Careli had been right – they seemed random. Some, perhaps, could be attributed to the information gained from Soothing stations, but many could not.

_They must have their own sources of information._

Yet another thing he’d have to find out about the Inquisitors. Marsh was gathering quite a list, and he knew it was going to have to become his priority, particularly as the House tensions were skyrocketing.

And the rumours about the Eleventh Metal were growing, gaining the Steel Ministry’s attention more and more. There had been no point asking Kell about that. He liked his air of mystery too much.

As it was…

Marsh had in his hands the single best piece of information about the Ministry the rebellion had collected in a long, long time.

He could copy it, but that would take time and anything could happen in the meantime. They could reassign him to another project. They could ask him to return the maps. They could catch him making a copy. Or his copy could be imperfect. That was unacceptable.

This information _had_ to get out in its entirety.

To gain all that information, only to fail to deliver it was unthinkable. No, he had to get it to Kelsier as soon as possible.

Marsh rolled up the map, preparing to stash it in the table leg that he would see delivered to Clubs’ shop.

With any luck Kelsier _would_ actually be careful with the information, use it to its full value. In any case, sending it to Clubs’ shop would be, in effect, giving it to the Terrisman. Sazed. With his copperminds, Sazed would preserve it.

Even if Kelsier was rash the information would live on. The Lord Ruler would never have the same advantage from hidden Soothing stations.

Marsh tucked the map away and set to work writing a brief note.

The map didn’t require too much explaining, not with the Ministry notes, but Kell had to know that Marsh needed it back as soon as possible. He wished there was something to say besides explaining the map.

The lack of a pattern in the Inquisitor attack was frustrating, to say the least. Where did they get their information? Presumably from torture, but where did they get _those_ people?

It could be from instances such as Vin. Obligators who’d found their emotions Soothed. An Inquisitor was still following that trail, after all. Marsh had seen that there’d been an attack on the thieving lair belonging to Theron. Which was… something of a concern given that Theron had been how they’d found the corrupt obligator who’d got Marsh into the Ministry.

_Can’t do anything about that either_. _I just have to keep working for as long as I can_.

Hopefully they hadn’t thought further than the skaa Allomancer they searched for. Hopefully Theron hadn’t been able to tell them anything there either.

Yet… Marsh felt there was something else. The Inquisitors had to have another way of finding Mistings.

Marsh enclosed the note with the map, and tried to get back to work without the thing. Careli had said he was working alone and he could only hope that didn’t change.

If Marsh was asked for the map and couldn’t produce it… the Inquisitors would tear him to shreds.

Of course, the Inquisitors could tear him to shreds for infiltrating the military in the first place. Or for having been part of the skaa rebellion or, frankly, for existing as a skaa halfbreed Misting.

Marsh just had to hold close to the thought that by getting the information out there would one day be a generation that didn’t have to live like that.

If only he could figure out the Inquisitor’s weakness then Marsh might actually believe that. How could they defeat them? There had to be a way…

Yes. Of the list of questions he had about the Inquisitors, that was the most pressing, and the least likely to be mentioned in passing.

He’d have to ask some more direct questions.

Probably Eliar was his best bet for that. Prelan Careli would know plenty, but asking a prelan was more of a problem, so it really depended on how much Marsh could get from Eliar, and his other colleagues.

Part way through the day the table leg was sent off, map included.

Marsh watched it go out of the corner of his eye.

No one else seemed to be looking twice at it, so he had to assume it would reach Kelsier without too much scrutiny.

He went back to work. Finding new Soothing station locations. New parts of the skaa slums that would no longer be safe. Marsh scowled. How long would it take before they settled on locations? He’d have to give Kelsier regular updates on where they were going to be.

A knock at Marsh’s door made him jump.

‘Come in.’

An obligator entered, Marsh recognised him as the Soother working on the same project as Marsh. Marsh would be expected to partner with him soon.

‘I heard you had a map of the Soothing stations?’ The Soother asked.

Marsh’s eyes slid over to the corner of the room, where he’d rolled up a piece of paper roughly the same size as the map. It was entirely blank.

‘Yes.'

The Soother took a step towards the paper. ‘Can I borrow it?’

‘No.’

The Soother stopped in his tracks, frowning at Marsh.

‘Fine, can we go over it together, then, get a head start?’

Marsh folded his arms on his desk, resisting the urge to get up and stand between the Soother and the ‘map’.

‘I’m afraid not,’ he said. ‘I’m running behind on my work today, and I really can’t spare the time. And I can’t have you taking the map, because I will be needing it.’ He levelled a stare at the Soother. ‘We can begin paired work on the project tomorrow afternoon, if that suits you?’

‘Well…’ The Soother took another small step towards Marsh’s paper. Marsh gritted his teeth.

‘You’ve worked in the Soothing stations before,’ Marsh said. ‘I haven’t. I need the map.’

The Soothers shoulders dropped. ‘Tomorrow then.’

‘Tomorrow afternoon,’ Marsh agreed, and the Soother left.

_Kelsier, you’d better get that map back to me._

Marsh ran a hand over his shaved head, and sighed.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

Marsh strode across the city, map tucked under his arm. _Return it to the Canton of Resource_. Fine. Kelsier had had the map returned promptly, just as Marsh had asked, and he’d spent the last few days working with the Soother, leaving the obligator none the wiser.

It was extremely annoying they’d sent the Soother with him to take the map back to Resource – the man kept glancing over his shoulder.

‘It’s following us,’ he said. ‘I swear it’s actually following us.’

Marsh tightened his hold on the map. ‘I’m sure it’s just going to the same Canton as us.’

‘No, no, I don’t think it is.’ Another glance. ‘They don’t often visit the Canton of Resource.’

The Inquisitors _didn’t_ often visit the Canton of Resource – it was rare enough for them to visit the building of the Canton of Inquisition. Yet this one was definitely headed that way.

‘But they do sometimes,’ Marsh said.

‘ _Sometimes_ , yes,’ the Soother said. ‘But it was in _our_ Canton.’

‘No, it wasn’t.’

‘Fine, it was just _outside_ our Canton which is pretty much the same thing. The point is, it followed us from our Canton.’

Marsh didn’t comment. He knew it had. He was tracking it with his bronze. It was also burning bronze, avoiding its copper. That wasn’t comforting.

‘There’s been more of them around the Canton recently,’ the Soother continued. ‘Asking questions about our new recruits.’

‘Really?’ Marsh asked. The Inquisitor shifted to one street over.

‘Yes.’ The Soother glanced over his shoulder. ‘Oh, thank the Lord Ruler, it’s gone.’

‘Good.’

The Inquisitor burnt bronze and pewter, moving along parallel to them at a steady pace.

‘They were really people once, you know,’ said the Soother.

‘Yes, I heard that,’ Marsh agreed and looked over at him. ‘How would that work? How would they choose Mistborn? I find it hard to believe the noble houses would readily agree.’

The Inquisitor added steel into the mix.

The Soother looked troubled. ‘I don’t know… I guess some would volunteer. They’re so powerful…’

‘Must be something in the process that makes them that way,’ Marsh said, eyeing him carefully. Volunteer? That would be… an intense way of gaining power. One Marsh had initially dismissed out of hand, and it still seemed too extreme. Most nobles seemed to prefer politics.

‘Definitely. Although… how they don’t die…’

‘They do die.’ Marsh frowned at him. ‘I heard that they age.’

‘Oh yes, I heard that too. I meant from the… from the spikes.’ The Soother looked behind them nervously. ‘The brain…’

Marsh caught a flash of a dark robe down a side street, and a flare of iron.

‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘That’s… odd.’

‘It must be done in secret,’ the obligator continued. ‘We hear so little about it. Mind you, there hasn’t been a new Inquisitor the whole time _I’ve_ been at the Ministry.’

‘Do you think the High Prelans know?’ Marsh asked. ‘Surely the Lord Prelan must, as he outranks them.’

‘I don’t know,’ said the Soother. ‘I don’t like to ask. I don’t want that metal eyed gaze on _me._ You’ve got a hell of a stare though. I heard that in your interview you didn’t look away from it even _once_.’

That story was going around? Marsh wasn’t sure what to think of that. Then again, Radon had probably spread the rumour in his quest to hitch a ride on his recruits’ successes.

He grunted. ‘No, I wouldn’t say that’s accurate.’

‘Oh, Lord Ruler, it’s back. Do you think it heard us?’

Marsh doubted it. It wasn’t burning tin.

‘I sincerely hope not.’

They both fell silent for a while. Two obligators moving through Luthadel with an Inquisitor lagging behind.

‘It could be watching us because of this,’ Marsh said eventually, indicating towards the map.

‘Could be,’ the Soother agreed. ‘I didn’t think I’d done anything to get an Inquisitor’s attention.’

‘Neither.’

The Inquisitor moved back to its parallel course, and then overtook them. Marsh tried not to react. The Soother must have noticed it wasn’t behind them anymore, but he didn’t relax that time. By then it was very clear it would be back.

And it was.

The Inquisitor waited for them on the steps of the Canton of Resource.

Obviously waited for them. Standing there smiling right at them as they approached.

Marsh and the Soother bowed to it, and went inside. It stayed on the steps.

Returning the map took slightly longer than Marsh had expected. Apparently the High Prelan himself wanted to accept the map back, and his meeting had run over time. The Soother apparently had his own business – as Marsh had known he would – and disappeared off for ten minutes.

The delay meant they left the building a little over half an hour later, and yet the Inquisitor was still outside, exactly where they’d last seen it. It followed them all the way back. A silent black shadow.

_____________________________

 

Marsh was officially promoted, and once again examined his reflection. A low ranked obligator still stared back at him, but more intricate tattoos surrounding his eyes.

Apparently it was common to more rapidly promote Mistings past the lowest ranks, but Marsh still got the impression he’d progressed unusually fast.

_Fine_.

He’d promised himself to become resigned to the fact, but although he knew it was practical way to respond, the promotion made Marsh nervous. More attention from higher level obligators. More chance that someone might start wondering why he’d waited so long to join the Ministry.

And he’d be seeing far less of Radon, which was annoying, given the amount of effort Marsh had put into being reasonably nice to the obligator.

His face stung slightly from the new tattoos.

Marsh sighed, and gently poked at them.

He stopped that quickly.

_After having this process done twice, you’d think I’d know better._

Well, now when the Steel Ministry found out they’d been infiltrated by a half breed skaa they’d have to deal with the fact that they’d also promoted him. That made Marsh feel a little better.

He pulled on his grey obligators robe and moved off from the Ministry housing where most low level obligators – and some of the higher ranks – lived, and towards the Canton building.

He had a morning long meeting with Careli and two other prelans.

A waste of a morning, or so Marsh thought until he found that Obligator Eliar was there. And the meeting itself _was_ a waste of a morning, given that it was just discussing information Marsh already had.

But he was to stay behind with Eliar, because Eliar was on the team working on expanding the Soothing station program. Eliar was an efficient worker, diligent and straightforward… but he was also reasonably friendly.

‘Got to give all of this to the Inquisitors,’ Eliar said when they were about half way through their work. ‘They really do like to keep a close eye on the project.’

_Yes. I noticed that when one followed me and that Soother all the way to the Canton of Resource and back._

Marsh had decided it must have been because of the map. They’d promoted him, after all. They trusted him. And that meant a few more pointed questions were unlikely to do serious damage.

‘Well, I can see why they would. It does give them significant leads in finding skaa Mistings.’

‘Oh yes, and I deal with them often enough that I’m… mostly used to them. It’s just at the moment, things are a little tense. There’s lots of rumblings that they’re still up to something.’

‘About the Lord Prelan?’

‘Something to do with him. And I’ve had Orthodoxy on my back wondering if I could find out what it is they think they have this time, which is easy for them to ask, when they’re not the ones who has to ask the Inquisitor.’

‘Do you think the Lord Prelan knows their weaknesses,’ Marsh asked, leaning in. ‘And that’s what keeps him above them?’

Risky to ask so directly, Marsh knew, and yet if there was something to be found Eliar was among the most likely to know it.

Eliar glanced around them in a manner that seemed casual enough. He was far better at that than Radon was.

‘I think no one but them and the Lord Ruler knows that,’ Eliar said.

‘Assuming they even have weaknesses,’ Marsh said, with a frown.

Hopefully Eliar just took his questions as curiosity. Marsh was more confident that he would, after the Soother had asked _Marsh_ about the Inquisitors. He’d been trying to sate his own curiosity, Marsh was sure of it. He’d just made a mistake in thinking Marsh knew more than he did.

‘They do. I’m sure that they do. There are… rumours. There’s always been rumours.’

‘What rumours?’

Eliar shook his head. ‘Never specific ones. Just that the Lord Ruler has ways to keep them in check.’ He lowered his voice still further. ‘Ways to kill them.’

_But nothing specific…?_ Marsh almost asked it out loud. Instead, he went with; ‘There are spikes through their brains. I can’t imagine there’s much that will harm them.’

‘Not much,’ Eliar agreed. ‘Maybe nothing but the Lord Ruler himself.’

_I hope not. But they age. I still think that if they die it means they can be killed._

Of course, he _had_ to believe that. Otherwise the Final Empire never _would_ fall, no matter how much information the skaa got over any number of generations. If the Lord Ruler did live forever, and his priests could not be killed…

_They die of old age. They are replaced. If nothing else, the rebellion could find a way to prevent the Ministry from replacing them_.

________________________

 

Marsh walked through the Canton of Inquisition with Prelan Careli.

‘Your report suggests that we place Soothing stations in some of the surrounding cities,’ Careli said.

‘Yes, my lord. Since Holstep, I have heard several people in the Canton argue that there must be more we can do to prevent the skaa from nearby cities from rebelling.’

Careli nodded. ‘It’s been proposed before. We simply don’t have the numbers of Allomancers to achieve it.’

_I know. That’s why I suggested it._

‘Look no further into it,’ Careli continued. ‘Not only do we lack the resources, but I am coming to believe that we are very short on time.’

‘The House tensions.’

‘The House _War_. It is a House War and it is a major House War and it has gone too far for us to stop it.’

_I hope you know what you’re doing, Kell._

With luck, Dockson would be figuring out details on how to stop Kelsier from dragging all of Luthadel down with the House War. Dockson was good at considering such things.

‘Are we certain of that, my lord? A House War in Luthadel…’

‘It will be devastating, the High Prelans are still hopeful that we can keep it to a minor house war. However… there’s little the Canton can do with the nobles – we must focus on the skaa, on keeping the majority of the city as docile as possible. We should have had these new stations weeks ago.’

Marsh frowned. ‘The project has been moving as fast as – ‘

Careli cut him off with a curt gesture. ‘That wasn’t a personal criticism. You’ve done a very good job. We simply should have been starting looking into new Soothing stations as soon as the House tensions started. We’ve acted too late and now I fear we’ll be struggling far more than need be.’

Marsh considered that, watching as obligators bustled past, more hurried than usual. The Ministry _was_ worried. Very worried.

_Good_.

‘Surely Kredik Shaw will act, my lord.’

‘They might.’ Careli looked sour. ‘But they’ve waited an awfully long time to do it. Historically… They may simply let the nobles fight.’

‘I understand that the Lord Ruler will not be touched, but perhaps the Inquisitors will react.’

They started up the stairs.

‘As I said, they’ve waited a long time if they do intend to do something.’

‘I was just thinking, my lord, since the Inquisitor’s Allomancy is so strong, if they were to forcefully break up the House War, they’d likely be successful.’

It was, of course, a wild stab in the dark. Marsh knew very little about the Inquisitors Allomancy, beyond that is _was_ unusually strong.

‘That may well be how the House War ends,’ Careli agreed.

‘My lord,’ Marsh said, lowering his voice. ‘Why is it that the Inquisitors _are_ so strong? If they come from noble Mistborn, how is that they become stronger?’

Careli stopped and frowned at Marsh.

‘You seem… interested in the Inquisitors.’

Marsh refused to wince. ‘Yes, my lord. I’d never seen one before I came to Luthadel and I… I admit that I’m curious.’

‘Yes,’ Careli said, and started walking again. ‘Many people are. However, there are things we do _not_ discuss about the Inquisitors and one of those things is where they come from. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, my lord.’ Marsh bowed his head.

_No one minded when I started asking about their weaknesses. Why don’t they like this particular topic?_

The Soother hadn’t avoided the topic when Marsh had asked about creating Inquisitors. Of course, the Soother wasn’t a particularly high ranked obligator, and fairly young. Whatever it was that Careli – and Eliar – knew, the Soother did not.

How high in the Canton did the knowledge go? And how would Careli react if Marsh asked another prelan the same question?

Badly. Very badly, after he’d expressly told Marsh not to discuss it.

Could it be written down somewhere?

If they were hiding it, keeping it only to the highest level obligators, then the information was important. Possibly vitally important.

‘Regarding the Soothing stations, we must move ahead quickly, and we must act as though this has always been our original schedule. I will not have obligators from other Cantons getting word that we have been slow on the matter.’

‘Of course not, my lord,’ Marsh said, wondering how the prelan could still be bothered by Canton politics as the city threatened to collapse into war.

 ‘You won’t be dealing with that many obligators from other Cantons at the moment, but I still must stress that you work to uphold the Canton’s reputation at all times.'

_Because you see Inquisition as second only to Orthodoxy, and you’d hate to see that slip._

It was possible Careli was experiencing pressure from the High Prelan for not acting sooner.

Marsh nodded to Careli and set off for his office. He’d need to think about the tensions some more. If the House War inflamed Canton tensions past the usual, maybe a more damaging wedge could be driven between them. He’d dismissed the idea before, of course, but if the Final Empire’s bureaucracy _could_ be disrupted…

That was exactly the kind of long term information the rebellion needed.

__________________________

 

Marsh went through the morning prayer and ceremony with as much precision as he could muster.

He was likely a bit short of seeming enthusiastic. Which… Yes, was a problem. But, there was an Inquisitor watching, and that made it exceedingly difficult to focus. It shouldn’t have – prayers were one of the few times Marsh had regularly seen the creatures.

Still, Marsh was seeing more of them. He was certain of it.

And Eliar had asked Marsh to come to his office after the prayers, which made it even harder to avoid thinking about the Inquisitor.

It seemed to be watching him.

_No, it’s not. It’s simply difficult to tell exactly where it’s looking with its… eyes. It is_ not _looking at me_.

The prayer ended, and Marsh was allowed to leave. The higher level obligators – prelan and high prelan – would stay. Longer prayers for higher ranks, presumably to ensure their continued loyalty to the Lord Ruler. It had taken Marsh a while to realise that that was the case, as the longer ceremonies only occurred once a month.

 ‘You asked to see me?’ Marsh said, heading into Eliar’s office.

The obligator looked up. ‘Oh. Yes… I’ve had a request for you to submit a report on your current progress.’

_Had a request…?_ Eliar _had a request. From who?_

‘I have a schedule of reports,’ Marsh said. ‘The next one is not due until late tomorrow. Will that suit you?’

‘No, no, I’m sorry, I need it for this afternoon.’ Eliar shuffled some papers, not looking directly at Marsh. ‘And if you could find a way to emphasis the devastating impact a House War will have on the Steel Ministry, as well as Luthadel in general, that would be excellent.’

Marsh didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit.

‘I… could do that, but I doubt that the prelans need telling.’

Eliar glanced up and met Marsh’s stare. ‘This isn’t for the prelans.’

_That’s what I thought_. _Time to try something._

‘I see. Well, the Soother I’m currently working with submitted a report this morning, I could arrange for a copy to be  - ‘

‘No, I’m afraid it needs to be _your_ report.’

His report. Specifically. And so soon after Careli had shut down his questions… Eliar looked a little uncomfortable, and Marsh felt a chill.

‘I’ll write it immediately,’ Marsh promised, keeping his voice steady.

The Inquisitors wanted his report. Why? What did they expect to find? He’d have to take extra care writing it, being sure to include the House War speculation, as any other member of the Canton would do. It _had_ to sound like a report any obligator could have written.

Marsh knew he _should_ go straight back to his office and get it done. Ensure it was written on time. Except… the office two doors down from Eliar was empty, and Marsh happened to know it belonged to a high ranking obligator named Venni.

Venni had much the same role as Eliar. She reported to the Inquisitors and Marsh… wanted to know what the Inquisitors were up to. Very badly wanted to know.

He didn’t know her schedule. She could be back any minute.

Marsh walked into her office and closed the door behind him – confidently, as if he had every right to be there.

He went straight to the recent reports. If he’d known when she was getting back, then Marsh would have taken the time to search the entire office, hopefully to find something on the Inquisitors. He couldn’t ask the same question again, but if anyone else had the knowledge written down it would be either Eliar or Venni.

The recent reports could tell him whether the Inquisitors were having any luck finding Kell. Or Vin. That hit on Theron’s lair _must_ have been related to Vin.

Then, of course, there was the Inquisitors request for Marsh’s report. He’d love to find the reasoning behind that.

Marsh flicked through files and papers, trying to be quick about it.

So much of the same thing. Reports sent to Kredik Shaw trying to get some kind of reassurance that something would be done about the House War.

Very little came back _from_ Kredik Shaw.

Marsh paused every so often, stopping to listen for footsteps. He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d do if Venni arrived back, but he’d rather have some warning.

There seemed little of use among the files Marsh was looking at. He went to close the drawer, and then he saw it. A slim little folder labelled as having been sent to the Canton from Kredik Shaw.

Marsh flipped it open, scanning the contents.

And he froze.

It _was_ from Kredik Shaw – an order from the Inquisitors. An order for more information on a recruit’s background.

On Marsh’s background.

The Ministry had sent someone back to speak to the corrupt obligator.

The file didn’t say much else. No reason why.

Marsh slid it back into place and hurried out of Venni’s office, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. The Inquisitors were checking up on him.

_This doesn’t mean they’ve found anything_ , Marsh told himself. _Or it could be that the obligator is now suspected of being corrupt. It might not be me specifically they’re looking it_.

The excuses sounded flimsy, particularly as Marsh headed back to his office to write a report that was to be delivered right to Kredik Shaw itself.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

Marsh hated his co-workers, every last one of them.

He’d tried not to think it too often, lest someone pick up on it. Tried to think of the Ministry culture as a whole – and hate _that_ – but…

He’d known from the outset that the Steel Ministry was a magnet for the worst in society; the people who _truly_ believed that the skaa were nothing, that the Lord Ruler was God and cared only about their own private world of power struggles. There _were_ some people there, Marsh was willing to admit, who just enjoyed the order in paperwork and organisation.

Some people in the other Cantons, anyway. The Canton of Inquisition was… impossible to comprehend. He’d seen Obligators joking about finding a skaa Misting, and handing her over the Inquisitors.

They _organised_ the deaths of people and _laughed_. They thought they were doing God’s work.

How had he given up on stopping these people? It was hard to believe he’d sat in his shop for three years, giving up, letting it happen…

And yet at the same time Marsh knew he couldn’t have gone back to leading the rebellion. To seeing loss after loss against an empire that hardly noticed the struggles of the skaa. To watching even the most skilled get dragged off to Hathsin.

Marsh shook his head. He was working with the kinds of people who were _happy_ to see people sent to Hathsin. Happy to send people like Mare off to their deaths. And they were so strong. So organised. So disciplined. The Steel Ministry did its job and it did it well… and they’d just spent the last few months giving information to a skaa infiltrator.

The Ministry would discover the ruse eventually, discover it, and kill him. Marsh had always known that.

Yet, those thoughts were creeping up on him more and more.

There was an Inquisitor waiting by the exit of the building. Marsh knew that, because there had been the last three times he’d left. And each time it had followed him as he went about his duties. Silently. Observing.

That wasn’t normal. It was the newest in a long line of disturbing developments that made Marsh believe the Inquisitors had their inhuman eyes on him.

And it seemed to have started after he’d asked the more direct questions about them.

He was going to have to be extremely thorough in checking that he was alone in his next meeting with Kelsier. _If_ he made it that long.

It was… difficult to tell if he was being paranoid. How did you avoid becoming paranoid, with those creatures around? Marsh knew for a fact that even those obligators following the law to the letter were nervous of them. He remembered Radon’s fear, standing at the back of the interview room when Marsh had just arrived back in Luthadel. And the Soother, terrified that the Inquisitor followed them to the Canton of Resource.

They whispered about them because they feared them. The Inquisitors… Marsh was no closer to understanding them.

How did they live with those spikes through their brains? Why were they so loyal to the Lord Ruler?

Not that those particular questions were that important.

If there was one last piece of information Marsh felt he _needed_ to get it was the secret to killing them. There _was_ one. He knew it. He was close to it, except he had a sinking suspicion that he was as close to it as _any_ of the obligators.

None of them truly knew. The Inquisitors were so separate, so… alien, that Marsh was thinking more and more that even the prelans knew very, very little.

How then, to figure it out?

Perhaps if he could understand those spikes they had, then he could reach some kind of conclusion himself. If he knew what kept them alive… how they were created in the first place…

But Marsh had yet to find a way to continue that line of questioning without alerting the prelans. Careli had been very clear, and if he caught Marsh asking there would be consequences. The type of consequences Marsh would not survive.

Marsh frowned, checking the time. He’d very carefully memorised Eliar schedule for the next few days and the obligator should be out of his office, and for a good hour. It wasn’t a good plan, though. No one would be writing down the Inquisitors weaknesses.

It was all the plan he had.

He stood, heading for the door. He knew how much time he had. He could go through a significant amount of files, and was bound to find _something_ of note.

All he had to do was walk there confidently, and hopefully no one would question him. He –

A tall, black cloaked figure loomed out at Marsh as he stepped out of his office.

Marsh reeled back, stumbling, flinching away from the steel eyed gaze.

It grinned.

The urge to run was nearly overpowering.

_Is it Pulling my emotions_?

He dared not burn bronze to find out. Instead Marsh forced himself to bow, far too close to the creature in the confined space of the corridor. How long had it been there, standing just outside his office?

The Inquisitor barely acknowledged the bow. It kept right on staring at him.

‘My lord,’ Marsh said, his voice not entirely steady.

It stepped to one side, allowing him to pass. Keeping himself as far away as possible, Marsh turned in the opposite direction to Eliar’s office and started walking. Just walking. Definitely no faster than usual.

The trouble was; he had no idea where he was going. Footsteps sounded behind him.

_It’s following me_.

He started down the stairs. He had no files with him. No paperwork that he could be pretending to give to someone else. He’d turned the wrong way to be heading up to ask Careli a question, and he really, _really_ didn’t want to turn around.

There was another Inquisitor on the ground floor.

Not close enough that Marsh was expecting to bow to it, but it was _watching_ him. Staring at him across the room.

_Lunch._ _I can be getting an early lunch._

That was innocent enough. A perfectly valid reason for having left his office. No need for two Inquisitors to follow him.

They did anyway.

Both of them, as he walked out of the building and crossed the street.

He felt sick.

He managed to eat anyway. Slowly, mechanically. He could only see one of the Inquisitors. Where had the other gone? Was it somewhere _behind_ him? Marsh tried to focus on his food, barely tasting it.

As for sneaking into Eliar’s office... It would be exceptionally dangerous now, with Inquisitors posting themselves outside his office.

Watching him.

____________________________

 

Marsh had a variety of maps spread open on the desk. None contain _quite_ the level of information of the one the High Prelans had given him, and they didn’t show the Soothing stations, but they were enough for Marsh to do his job.

Unfortunately, Marsh reflected as the door opened, he wasn’t working alone.

The Soother scowled when he saw Marsh.

‘They keep assigning us to work together,’ he said.

_And clearly that’s a problem for you_.

Marsh wasn’t entirely sure why. It wasn’t a problem for _him_ , but then… as he’d noted the day before anyone he worked with was an obligator. It was a lottery of who he’d be working with each day: someone who genuinely hated the skaa; someone who was completely indifferent to the skaa; or someone who was annoyingly open about worshipping the Lord Ruler.

Actually, that last one was the worst, because Marsh had to pretend to agree with them. He wished he’d been more moderate during his recruitment. But, the Soother openly disliked him, which in turn meant Marsh had to put in less of an effort in curbing his own hostility.

‘One of the best assignments in the Canton and I _have_ to get repeatedly partnered with the guy the Inquisitors are following.’

So it was just as obvious to the rest of the Canton. Wonderful.

He resisted the urge to scrub a hand over his face.

Marsh was not sleeping particularly well. The flashes of black cloaks out of the corner of his eye had begun to follow him into his dreams.

That night had been particularly bad.

The Soother glared at him. ‘Nothing to say to that? _Why_ are they following you, anyway? Did you forget to kill a skaa woman? You’re not bribing someone, are you? To progress in the Ministry?’

_I might ‘forget’ that I shouldn’t kill you in a minute._

‘No.’

The Soother grumbled something under his breath.

Marsh tapped the map, with more force than he’d intended. ‘How about _here_ for a new Soothing station? It’s already a Ministry owned building, so we wouldn’t have to draw unnecessary attention by appropriating it.’

‘I was thinking here.’ The Soother pointed. ‘The Ministry owns that building too.’

_It does, but there’s a major underground route out of the city within a Seeker’s range_.

‘No, given the resources we have – ‘ Marsh tapped the map again, more lightly this time ‘ – here will get us a better coverage of the city. It’s well away from any other Soothing stations, and there _has_ been some unrest in this area.’

It was also an excellent place to meet with Kell, should they get as far as scouting out the location. That had the double benefit of alerting Kell that there could be a new Soothing station appearing there soon.

The Soother scowled, probably because he didn’t like to admit that Marsh was right.

That was his problem.

Marsh didn’t have the patience for him that day – it could have been the lack of sleep.

‘It’s a decent sized building,’ Marsh continued. ‘And therefore I doubt anyone would notice the small Soothing station team moving in.’

‘No,’ the Soother admitted, ‘they probably wouldn’t.’ He leaned in, examining the map. ‘I still think the other location is good as well.’

‘Perhaps for one of the temporary stations,’ Marsh allowed. He’d have to think another reason not to put one there later.

‘Hmm.’ The Soother sighed. ‘We’ll be sent to check it out. At night.’

‘Well, yes. Of course.’

‘Inquisitors following us in the dark. Just what I wanted. Maybe they’ll send a different Soother with you. Or maybe a Smoker.’

Black cloaks following him in the darkness… burning metals they knew Marsh could detect… He tried not to shiver.

‘The Inquisitors will have better things to do than hang around a building all night,’ Marsh said.

If they really did suspect him, why did they not act? Why tail him? Why allow him to continue on the project? Were they biding their time? Uncertain? That wasn’t a word Marsh would have associated with Inquisitors. He wasn’t convinced they _needed_ to be certain to question someone.

It was possible the prelans favouring him caused the Inquisitors to hold back. Only, what Marsh knew of the politics between them, the Inquisitors would delight in throwing the prelans off balance like that.

And weren’t they _getting_ some of their information from the prelans?

No, they were probably simply enjoying the exercise. Making certain that he saw them. Fraying his nerves, possibly to make it easier to break him.

Marsh hated that it was working.

The Soother snorted. ‘They should have better things to do then follow around a random Seeker too.’

Marsh tried to ignore that.

He wished it _were_ random. Then he could expect them to stop at any time. Under the circumstances? Random was not so likely.

He burnt bronze, but sensed no Allomancy in the area. That _was_ one good thing about the Soother. Marsh had never caught him altering his emotions.

Unfortunately, an Inquisitor could be burning copper.

Marsh hated that too. Sometimes they would allow him to detect their Allomancy, sometimes they wouldn’t.

He extinguished the bronze again with a quiet sigh and turned back to his work.

‘I’ll write up our recommendations for the Soothing stations,’ Marsh said, ‘and submit it by tonight. 

____________________________

 

Marsh went through the desk drawer with meticulous care. He didn’t want to stay any longer than strictly necessary, but neither did he want to miss anything.

Eliar had had contact with Inquisitors for many years. He regularly went to Kredik Shaw. _Surely_ he differentiated between the Inquisitors he worked with.

Marsh was looking for names. Descriptions had limited value, since if the Inquisitors _had_ been people then they’d changed drastically. Marsh still doubted that. The more he thought about it the more he was certain that the rarity of Mistborn made it unlikely.

And he’d added their heights to the list of things that made it unlikely. He remembered the line of them in Kredik Shaw, all more or less the same height.

So the Steel Ministry had to find noble Mistborn volunteers, who were devout to the Steel Ministry, willing to undertake such a drastic procedure, had an excessive love of violence and very were tall. Starting with the limited number of Mistborn, it didn’t seem credible.

But. If they _were_ altered people, then the best way to confirm that was to find their names and try and trace it back.

Of course, if he found such names, Marsh was unlikely to be able to trace them back using the Canton of Inquisitions records. That was something he’d need Orthodoxy for, and it would be far harder for an Inquisition Obligator to snoop around the Canton of Orthodoxy headquarters without being noticed.

Marsh decided he’d figure something out when the time came. Perhaps sneak in at night.

If the Inquisitors didn’t come for him first.

The official files didn’t seem to contain any Inquisitor names, so Marsh moved on to Eliar’s own notes. They were less organised, and therefore far harder to sort through.

Marsh grimaced slightly and tried to pick up the pace.

_‘…the Inquisitors…’_ read Eliar’s notes.

_‘Kredik Shaw has asked for…’_ they continued.

Did the creatures even _have_ names?

If not, it supported his theory that they had not previously been noble Mistborn. Yet… it certainly wasn’t proof. Who knew what kind of efforts the spike eyes could have had on the original person’s memory.

They could have been nobles and simply not remember who they were before. That would also cancel out the loyalty factor, and therefore the need to be a volunteer.

Footsteps sounded from outside the room.

Marsh froze, crouched on the floor, his eyes darting towards the closed door.

He was tempted to hurriedly return the notes to their rightful place, except it wouldn’t really do much good. Marsh wasn’t supposed to be in Eliar’s office _at all_.

The footsteps continued past the room.

Marsh relaxed only fractionally.

He wanted to burn bronze. It would give him just that little extra advantage of knowing when an Allomancer was approaching. It would also alert any Seekers nearby that someone was in Eliar’s office, a fact that would be _extremely_ suspicious because Marsh had worked out that Eliar himself was a Smoker.

Bronze would have helped him know whether there was an Inquisitor around, but if there was one thing Marsh _was_ sure of, is was that they _were_ all Mistborn, regardless of whether they’d once been human. They could detect him burning bronze, while hiding behind their own coppercloud.

And there was nothing useful in Eliar’s notes.

Marsh checked the time. He couldn’t take the risk to stay longer – Eliar could be back from Kredik Shaw at any moment.

With one last sweeping glance around the room to check everything was how he’d found it, Marsh hurried back to his own office, where his own work lay abandoned across his desk.

Perhaps Venni took more detailed notes. The only good thing that had come out of Marsh’s search of Eliar’s office, was that he now had her schedule too.

He should probably count himself lucky he hadn’t been found searching Eliar’s office, and leave it at that. Marsh had no intention of doing that. What was the point of being an infiltrator if you didn’t actively search out more information?

Also, Marsh hadn’t seen a single Inquisitor all day. That made for a nice change.

His office door swung open and Eliar walked in.

Marsh stared at him.

Eliar smiled, which didn’t make Marsh feel any better at all. Despite the promotion, Marsh was still a lower ranked obligator – protocol demanded that if Eliar wanted to speak to him, Marsh was to go to _Eliar’s_ office.

Where he’d just been.

‘Do you have a moment?’ Eliar asked.

_No. I don’t. All obligators have tight schedules and I just spent half an hour or so getting behind on it._

‘Certainly,’ Marsh said.

Eliar sat down at his desk and opened a file. ‘I wanted to go over the growing tensions in Luthadel with you.’

‘The…?’ Marsh looked between Eliar and the file. It was _not_ his place to question a senior obligator. ‘Very well.’

Eliar went to slide Marsh’s map of Luthadel closer, then paused, looking up at Marsh… for permission? Marsh made a curt _go ahead_ gesture.

‘Now,’ Eliar said. ‘We’re expecting quite a bit of disruption among the skaa around the noble houses once the war begins in earnest. Of course, the fighting may actually keep them to their homes, so we’ve been focusing on the skaa areas, where there’s less noble fighting.’ He paused.

‘Yes,’ Marsh agreed.

‘But,’ Eliar said, ‘we do expect that the noble fighting _will_ come out onto the streets, causing serious damage to the buildings in the area, but far more serious damage to the trade and our own ability to function correctly. Obligators will have far less access to the nobility.’

‘I hardly think we can put in Soothing stations among the noble houses,’ Marsh said, wondering when Eliar was going to get to the point.

‘No, we can’t. But the damage the in-fighting between the noble houses is going to damage Luthadel’s entire operating structure for generations. And we’re still worried about losing recruits to the Steel Ministry itself. We could be weakened for long after the war itself ends.’

Did Eliar actually _have_ a point?

Eliar tapped the map. ‘The fighting will spread around Kredik Shaw, although it would have to get severe and extremely open before either the Canton of Inquisition or the Canton of Orthodoxy buildings would be in difficulty. However, the Canton of Finance’s positioning may mean that the building itself could take damage. The Mistborn are unlikely to stay within the keeps. We could have Allomancer fights spreading out over the rooftops.’

Marsh folded his arms. ‘I already know this.’

‘Oh… yes.’ Eliar shifted uncomfortably. ‘I was just making sure you… remembered it.’

‘I’m not about to forget that Luthadel is in the middle of its first House War for centuries,’ Marsh said, irritably. ‘The expansion of the Soothing station program is happening _because_ of this.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Eliar said nodding unconvincingly. ‘But since it’s the single most important threat that’s faced Luthadel in recent times it’s vital that everyone keeps undated.’

That was fine, it even made sense, until you realised that it was not Eliar’s job to personally spread that information. And he’d told Marsh nothing new.

‘I’ll be sure to do that.’

‘Good,’ Eliar said. ‘This is the most recent projection of the long term damage, I’ll just leave it with you then.’

He patted the file as he stood, walked to the door, paused, and dipped his head slightly at Marsh before leaving.

That had… almost been a bow. Which made absolutely no sense because Eliar _was_ several ranks above Marsh. And older. And had been with the Canton a long time.

It was possible Marsh should have been bowing to him.

Marsh strode over to the door, yanked it back open and peered out. There was, thankfully, still no Inquisitor in sight. But neither could Marsh see Eliar.

_What was_ that _about?_

Perhaps dealing regularly with the Inquisitors had finally driven the obligator mad. Marsh returned to his desk, hesitated, and examined Eliar’s file. It was _exactly_ what Eliar had said it was.

Shaking his head, Marsh swiped it to one side.

____________________________

 

Marsh sat on his bed, staring down at his shaking hands.

Another nightmare.

_I should lie back down. I need the sleep._

How was he supposed to continue to gather information when he was exhausted? Soon enough the other obligators would begin to notice the bags under his eyes.

Which… didn’t really matter.

If Marsh’s superiors started suspecting him, they’d pass the information over to the Inquisitors. Who already watched Marsh. Possibly because Marsh’s superiors _did_ already suspect him. They had to, even if they didn’t act like it, because Marsh was sure the Inquisitor activity was because he’d been too direct in his questioning.

He suspected Prelan Careli had first reported him.

_I still have to keep my wits about me. This_ could _just be paranoia. I have no idea what the Inquisitors do – or do not – know._

Yet still they followed him.

Marsh glared at his hands. He couldn’t stop the shaking, and this was just from them following him. _Regardless_ of what they currently knew, they’d catch him eventually, and he’d liked to think he’d give them some resistance. Not break immediately. Not hand them Kelsier. Or Vin.

Marsh had a loose plan for that. To think falsehoods beforehand, to convince _himself_ of false information. Hopefully he could give that to the Inquisitors instead. If they thought they had what they wanted and killed him, then by the time they discovered they were wrong it would be too late. Marsh would be dead and they would have no leads.

It was demoralising to find that his hands shook simply from them _following_ him. Apprehension. Constant tension. Maybe once he was caught and was openly resisting he’d find more strength.

Or… maybe it would be harder. Did the Inquisitors use emotional Allomancy in their torture? Possibly not, the, the _mess_ Inquisitors left behind surely would have inspired more than enough terror. But what if the victim _didn’t_ break immediately?

Marsh rubbed a hand over his face.

Thinking about _that_ was not helping.

_I’ll just keeping working, gathering information, until they come for me. There’s nothing else I can do_.

Well, there was one thing. Kelsier. He wanted to be able to warn Kell, in case he just suddenly dropped out of contact. In case… in case Marsh _did_ break.

A note. Left at the meeting place – the new Soothing station – for if Marsh himself failed to make the meeting.

He stood, pacing up and down the room as he considered what to tell Kelsier. There… wasn’t really all that much information he hadn’t passed on. He hadn’t found the Inquisitors weakness, but there _was_ one. Kell needed to know that.

He wished there was _more_.

There wasn’t, really. Just the warning and the hint that there _was_ a weakness.

Marsh grimaced, but he _had_ already given the rebellion important information – the Soothing stations, and he’d told them about Canton rivalries. That had to count for something. That _had_ to make a difference, in the long run.

He sighed, took out paper, and started to write. 

“ _I think that the Inquisitors suspect me…”_

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

 

Marsh paced.

Up and down the room. Up, and down.

This would likely be his last meeting with Kell.

The Inquisitors… they _were_ watching him. Far too closely. And him and only him. Marsh had watched them back – he was the only obligator they followed. It was only a matter of time now. The best he could do was make sure Kelsier received every last scrap of information Marsh had learned. The name of every obligator he thought could be bribed (not many). The worst of the competition between Cantons.

Unfortunately no way to stop the Inquisitors. _That_ hadn’t changed since Marsh had sat down and written the note, still tucked away in the leg of the table. No confirmation that they were originally noble Mistborn, either.

Getting out of the Ministry was out of the question. It always had been. He had the tattoos, and they would make hiding impossible. No one in the underground would trust him, and Marsh really couldn’t ask anyone to take the risk of hiding someone so distinctive. And that wouldn’t change even if he somehow managed to escape Luthadel. The tattoos would mark him out, few people would trust him, and the Inquisitors would not let a Steel Ministry infiltrator walk free.

Even assuming he could walk away in the first place, that was. With the Inquisitors watching him… it could be that that was what they were watching for. Waiting. Hoping Marsh would lead them back to who he was working with.

He’d checked to make sure they hadn’t followed him that night. That didn’t mean one hadn’t approached since.

It didn’t mean they weren’t hiding out in the mists, burning copper.

He’d have to trust Kelsier to scout out the area properly before approaching.

Marsh paced.

Kelsier _would_ scout around the area properly. Marsh’s brother could be reckless, but he wasn’t completely devoid of sense.

Marsh hoped.

He was also going to have to tell Kelsier that it would likely be their last meeting. He hadn’t decided how to word that yet. Saying nothing wasn’t an option. They’d never been close, but Marsh did want the opportunity to say goodbye.

It could cause an argument or two, but Kell would understand that there was nothing to be done.

A noise on the stairs made Marsh stop in his tracks.

It was too early for Kell. Far too early, considering Kell shared his own tendency to run a little late.

No one else should have been in the building.

Marsh moved towards the light, intending to snuff it out. The signal would be gone and Kell would know it wasn’t safe. He shouldn’t have had the light on at all, according to the Ministry’s policy.

Not with the secrecy behind the Soothing stations. Whoever was in the building now would have seen it, and they wouldn’t be happy. But that wasn’t the end of the world. There were worse things to be caught doing.

Such as meeting with the Survivor of Hathsin.

A woman’s cry of fear sounded through the building and Marsh froze, turning towards the door.

It burst open.

The Inquisitors moved in with an incredible speed, dashing across the room towards him. It hardly mattered. Marsh was rooted to the spot. Now? They chose _now_?

Terror rose in his chest, but it was too late. Far too late.

Two Inquisitors grabbed hold of him, throwing him to the floor with the strength to match the speed they’d shown.

The breath was knocked out of him, and Marsh gasped for air, unable to do anything as more black cloaks appeared in the corner of his eye. They were going to kill him as a group. Torture him.

A hand fastened down on his head, holding him still.

He hadn’t warned Kelsier yet. He hadn’t –

Another scream and a woman in torn skaa clothing was shoved towards him. Forced down.

Her back hit Marsh in the face. _What…?_

He tried to breath, and breathed in the back of her shirt. Her elbow caught him in the ribs and Marsh twisted, trying to struggle, but the Inquisitors still had him pinned down in grips Marsh could never hope to break.

He tried anyway.

One of the Inquisitors laughed and the woman jerked once, twice, three times… and her screams stopped. Her body was still twitching. But she was dead. Marsh was absolutely certain she was, and just as sure that he was next.

They hadn’t asked him a single question.

The woman’s body jerked again and agony laced through Marsh. He screamed. Something had pierced his _eye_. His _eye_. He choked on the woman’s shirt. Screamed again.

The pain was all-consuming. A fire that burned through his head, wiping out all thought. He was vaguely aware of more pain, of briefly being able to breathe before something else was obstructing him.

At some point he was thrown over onto his stomach. A flash of agony in his back resulted from that, but it hardly stood out against the rest.

Eventually, the pain… eased. A little. Marsh could do nothing but groan weakly. His head _hurt_. Still. Hurt with an intensity of pain he’d never experienced before.

Blue lines and shapes danced about him. He didn’t know what that was. The flat shape above him was likely a ceiling. Marsh stared at it. He tried not staring at it. Tried to close his eyes to block out the strange blue shapes. That didn’t work.

‘Brother,’ rasped a voice above him.

Marsh jumped slightly, it only served to exacerbate the pain. He stilled.

‘Brother,’ the voice repeated. ‘Drink this.’

_I don’t know who you are,_ Marsh would have said, if he’d the energy, _but you are_ not _my brother_.

Kelsier didn’t sound like that. No. In fact, the closest person Marsh had heard to sounding like that was an –

Inquisitor.

Was _this_ how they broke people? Caused such pain so that the subject could barely remember their own name? Would answer purely in reflex? Marsh wouldn’t do that.

Even as he thought it, he knew the resolution was a weak one. He wanted the pain to stop.

Something was poured into his mouth and Marsh’s jaw was forced closed, a hand covering his mouth.

‘Swallow.’

It was sound advice, but Marsh was already choking.

The Inquisitor shook him, and Marsh nearly blacked out. But he managed to swallow. The Inquisitor released him.

‘Burn it.’

_Burn what?_ Marsh wondered hazily.

The blue lines continued to shimmer around him.

He tried to blink. That didn’t work either.

Then he felt it. A new source of power within him. Like bronze but… not bronze.

Marsh burnt it.

The pain receded some more. He felt… stronger. More aware. Much like he imagined pewter would feel to burn.

Marsh, of course, couldn’t burn pewter.

With less pain obscuring his mind, the odd blue lined room was slightly easier to make sense of. Some kind of liquid was seeping over the floor. Which was concerning, considering that he was surrounded by Inquisitors.

Marsh went very still. They were easy to pick out, once he concentrated a little, and there were _nine_ of them. Nine.

Somehow, he wasn’t dead yet. But with nine Inquisitors he soon would be.

He had the urge to try and leap out the window. Yet the pain in his head throbbed, matching the pain in his chest and back, and Marsh wasn’t sure he could stand, let alone run.

What had they _done_ to him?

And _why_ couldn’t he see properly?

Marsh swiped an uncoordinated hand at his face, hoping to remove whatever covered his eyes.

His hand brushed something hard and cold and pain stabbed its way through his head again. Right through his head. As if he’d knocked something that… that…

Marsh’s hand shook as he reached around and felt along the back of his head. An inch of something protruded there. It was sharp.

Rational thought deserted him.

He heard a soft whimpering noise. A beat later he realised it was him making the sound, and he stopped.

Marsh let his hand fall back to his side and stared up at the ceiling. Blankly. Through a fuzzy haze he was partially aware that he was shaking.

He was hauled to his feet and, somehow, stayed upright.

He was given a speech that included phrases like _one of our number_ and _brother_ and other things Marsh would rather not be hearing.

_Inquisitor_ , whispered a voice at the back of his mind.

_Yes,_ Marsh thought. _Nine of them. Can’t fight nine Inquisitors._

He was given a new cloak.

_Inquisitor_ , whispered the voice, more insistently.

He was being led down the stairs. Out of the building. Surrounded by an escort of black cloaks. Or. What he assumed were black cloaks. Colours were… not there.

Marsh shut that thought down too.

_Mine now,_ whispered a voice. And laughed.

Marsh decided he’d imagined that one.

He arrived at Kredik Shaw.

Nine sets of spike eyes regarded him closely. Interestingly enough, Marsh could see those quite clearly. The metal stood out starkly against their faces. He shuddered.

_You have an advantage! You_ have _to use this!_

An advantage… that hadn’t been how Marsh had been viewing the situation. In fact, he’d been trying not to assess the situation in any way.

He _forced_ himself to _think_. It wasn’t easy. He didn’t want to. Yet denial would get him nowhere.

He’d been ambushed by what had to be all the Inquisitors in Luthadel.

Despite a lot of pain that Marsh considered evidence to the contrary, they hadn’t wanted to kill him. They’d killed… others.

Not him. Him they’d recruited.

The thought made him want to run and hide. To cower away from it all. It was too late for that.

He was surrounded by Inquisitors. He was probably expected to say something.

Marsh looked up. Surveyed them all. Nine Inquisitors surrounding him. Ten Inquisitors in Luthadel.

An advantage. 

‘Tell me _everything_ ,’ he said.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

Marsh slumped down on the bed in his newly assigned quarters, put his head between his knees, laced his fingers across the back of his neck, and focused on not hyperventilating.

He was an Inquisitor.

An _Inquisitor_.

He’d spent a full day as an Inquisitor, among all the other Inquisitors, in Kredik Shaw.

This had _not_ been the plan.

The eleven spikes throbbed in time with each other. Marsh had been hoping that would stop. It hadn’t. He told himself it was the least of his problems.

Eleven spikes for the eleven people they’d killed making him into one of them. Making him an Inquisitor. Making him a Mistborn.

Or not quite a Mistborn. Marsh couldn’t burn gold, or aluminium. Aluminium, which he’d only just found out about. They’d told him about duralumin too; Marsh could burn that one. A Mistborn had died – in terror and agony – so that Marsh could burn duralumin.

And a Terris Keeper had died for the ability to use a gold mind. That was the spike in Marsh’s back.

Marsh was supposed to be filling his gold mind, and he would. The advantage was too great to ignore despite the terrible cost behind it.

First he needed time to process.

The Inquisitors had not left him alone for a moment, and Marsh had no idea how someone was _supposed_ to react to the transformation. He wasn’t sure there was a correct reaction. He was just as certain he hadn’t been capable of much pretence. It had been a tense day.

Marsh considered it a minor victory that he’d managed not to either throw up or simply bolt from Kredik Shaw.

He would need to focus on much greater aims in the days to come. Marsh had asked the Inquisitors to tell him _everything_. They hadn’t, of course, but they’d told him plenty.

Eleven spikes for eleven new abilities.

It was – as far as Marsh could tell – chance what spikes an Inquisitor received, based on the Mistings and Mistborn captured at the time.

They did try to give all a gold mind, but feruchemists were hard to find. The Terris Keepers hid themselves well. Yet, not quite well enough. Marsh’s back spike was a testament to that.

Marsh had tried to spend the day concentrating on anything other than his own transformation. Part of that had been learning about the spikes, and the gruesome process needed for each one. They called it Hemalurgy.

And it stole Allomancy and Feruchemy. Marsh wasn’t exactly clear on _why_ and nor was he certain he wanted to know.

It also enhanced existing abilities. The Inquisitors had explained to Marsh that he’d been chosen because he was a Seeker, a Seeker who’d then been given a spike that granted Allomantic bronze (another Seeker had died for that – probably a skaa misting, like Marsh). And now… now Marsh could pierce copperclouds.

They’d had him test the ability.

Finally, Marsh had the answer to where the Inquisitors got some of their mysterious leads.

He thought of Kelsier, bouncing around the city, assuming himself safe under his coppercloud. Teaching Vin the same. Of the Misting underground, thinking themselves safe with their Smokers.

As for his other new abilities… Marsh hadn’t had much time to use them all. He’d burnt pewter, it gave a definite advantage, and tin.

He’d come to the conclusion that tin wasn’t really all that important to the Inquisitors. It didn’t improve their strange sight, although it was an advantage to have the enhanced hearing.

Marsh had quickly resolved not to burn tin often. It made the spikes’ throbbing worse.

Now he was expected to learn how to fill his gold mind, which Marsh knew was going to be difficult, because he had no personal experience with Feruchemy. No one _should_ , besides the Terris keepers. But, his Feruchemy spike held another interest for Marsh. All the Inquisitors had the ability to fill a gold mind, and all had a spike in their back, right between the shoulder blades.

Marsh slid one hand down his back and lightly touched the top of his, grimacing a little as his fingers brushed the metal embedded in his skin. The linchpin spike, the others had called it.

Removal was deadly.

_If nothing else I’ve found that out_.

Marsh would have to make use of the information personally.

The night before, when they’d ambushed him…

Apparently they’d left a single body intact enough to be recognised. Marsh knew why. The Soother he’d been working with would have arrived back in the building eventually and found the room.

It was all politics. The Inquisitors wanted the Obligators to be scared. Terrified of them, at all times. Even if they recognised Marsh later, the fear would already be there and it would just leave more questions. Inquisitors could strike at whoever they liked, whenever they liked. _That_ was the message.

The Inquisitors must have been sending the same message for generations. An obligator would disappear in a night of violence and then later his colleagues would recognise him. Changed.

It explained a lot.

Eliar had _known_. Or, at the very least, guessed. Marsh was simmering with anger about that. If the obligator had just _hinted_ , then Marsh could have run. He would have had time to find a way to avoid the terrible procedure.

Then again, Eliar _had_ hinted, but Marsh had missed the point. That odd deference, the reminder about the House War… All because of the Inquisitors following Marsh. Eliar had picked up on their plan.

Regardless, Canton politics wouldn’t have been the only result of the mess the Inquisitors had left behind.

Marsh never had turned the light off.

The Soother may well have found the blood soaked room, but Kelsier would have found it first.

A room splattered with blood with a single recognisable body. He would draw the same conclusion the Soother was meant to.

The same conclusion Marsh himself had reached when the Inquisitors had entered.

Kelsier would think him dead.

Marsh had tried to do something about that. But… the other Inquisitors watched him closely. Presumably they couldn’t afford to have a new recruit do anything unpredictable.

Marsh wanted to do a great deal of unpredictable things, and sadly contacting his brother could not be the top of that list.

He’d left it too long.

If Kelsier thought the Inquisitors had caught Marsh – which they had, in a way – then he would have to assume they’d broken Marsh. Which… they had. In a way. Marsh supposed making him inhuman could be classified as such.

The thought made him wince again, and he removed his hand from his back.

Marsh couldn’t change it. He _had_ to learn to accept it.

Regardless. Kelsier would no longer be in the same lair.

He’d have moved to somewhere the Inquisitors couldn’t find him, and – since that was based on information he assumed came from Marsh – where Marsh couldn’t find him.

Perhaps it was for the best.

He… could do it.

Take down the back bone of the Steel Ministry in Luthadel. Maybe even, perhaps, if his hunch was correct… maybe even take down the Lord Ruler himself.

They’d given him that.

They’d taken him, twisted him so that Marsh wasn’t even certain he was human anymore and in doing so they’d given him the tools to bring them down.

Kelsier thought Marsh dead. Marsh was about to take on nine Inquisitors and their immortal God.

One slip and Kell’s assumption would be proven correct.

Yet. Marsh would be putting himself in the very position he’d been trying to avoid from the start. He had a vital piece of information, more vital even than the existence of Soothing stations.

Marsh knew how to kill an Inquisitor. The information had come at a far higher price than he would have voluntarily payed.

That didn’t change the fact that he had it, and no reliable way of passing it on.

It _would_ be satisfying to personally destroy Luthadel’s Inquisitors. It was still frustrating to think that failure would mean the secret was lost again.

He’d just have to be very, _very_ careful, and go after the Inquisitors first.

He _knew_ he could kill them. The Lord Ruler… that was just a theory. A likely theory, certainly, but Marsh was still going to destroy the Inquisitors first. Perhaps keep an eye… keep a lookout for clues to his theory before he acted.

To think that Kelsier’s insane plan might actually cause the fall of the Final Empire… Marsh hadn’t decided whether to be angry about that yet. It depended on the Skaa rising and… Yeden had been a good man. A dedicated man, and part of the resistance for a long time.

He was gone, and he’d taken his army with him.

They’d already failed once in Kelsier’s plan. Marsh couldn’t understand how his brother thought to make anything with what he had left. Couldn’t see what his brother had been doing since the disaster at Holstep. There had never been time to ask.

And no point, not when any plan was doomed to fail.

Didn’t Kelsier know that that was just what _happened_? The Final Empire was a fortress, and the rebellion tended to do little more than throw rocks at it.

Marsh was in that fortress and he had no idea what would happen if he actually succeeded in killing the Lord Ruler with no rebellion in the city.

It was difficult to believe it was something he was seriously contemplating.

Something he might actually be capable of.

To personally avenge Mare…

Marsh would happily rip the Lord Ruler to pieces.

_________________________

 

Marsh held a handful of coins.

And he burnt steel.

Instantly, a multitude of blue lines appeared, shooting out from his chest to the coins. The lines mixed oddly with his new sight. All his life, Marsh had wondered what burning the other metals would be like. He’d never expected to find out.

He tossed the first coin, and Pushed. It was flung across the room at a tremendous speed, striking the wall, and spinning across the floor.

Marsh considered it for a moment.

Too hard.

He tossed a second. Pushing on that yielded much the same result. Marsh frowned.

He’d spent an hour that morning with the Inquisitors in prayer. It had been… unsettling.

So he focused on his Allomancy.

Bronze was natural to him. Easy. He was well aware that it hadn’t always been like that – it had taken years of conscientious practise to get as good as he was.

Now he had nine to learn and precious little time to do it in.

Brass and zinc could wait. Pewter and tin… they enhanced his body’s natural abilities. While Marsh was sure he needed to practice with those too, it was steel and iron he was most worried about.

Duralumin and atium could _definitely_ wait. Supposedly atium expanded your mental capacity, in order to be able to use it effectively. And duralumin… Marsh would rather learn some skill before he tried brute force.

He had no real intention of it coming down to a fight with any one of the other Inquisitors, but… Intentions could only take him so far. He’d had no intention of being recruited by them, either.

Marsh switched to burning iron, and Pulled on one of the coins, holding out a hand to catch it. It shot forward, far too fast, and embedded itself in his palm.

Marsh cursed, yanking back his hand. The coin fell free, dripping in blood. Marsh cursed again.

_Stupid._

He’d been Pushing the coins too hard. Why had he expected an iron Pull would be any different?

Yet…

Cautiously, more than a little unsure, Marsh tapped into his newly filled goldmind. The stinging from his palm vanished.  He turned his hand over, and eyed it with a frown. Completely healed.

That was… disturbing, actually.

Almost as disturbing as feeling the goldmind had been. The feeling of weakness had enveloped him completely and that was the last thing Marsh needed to be feeling when trapped in Kredik Shaw. He’d had to forcefully remind himself of the advantage.

The other Inquisitors had gold minds, so he’d had to use his.

At least now he knew how to tap into it, as well.

Except now it was practically empty again. Apparently he would need to spend significantly more time filling it.

As for the iron…

Marsh sighed, and wiped the blood off his palm. Perhaps it was better to practise just the steel Push until he could get his hands on some kind of shield to use.

He threw another coin, and tried to concentrate. It slammed into the wall, and stuck there.

‘By the Lord Ruler,’ Marsh complained, glaring at it.

Things would be going much better if he had a teacher. Except who was he supposed to ask? One of the Inquisitors? Not likely.

Annoyingly, the answer was probably Kelsier, eventually. That certainly didn’t help him in the short term.

Marsh _wanted_ to contact his brother. He just couldn’t think of a single way to do it.

He could… he could _try_ through Renoux, if Kell hadn’t had him retreat too. The problem with that was Renoux wasn’t _in_ Luthadel, and slipping off out of the city was impossible.

Although Kelsier had mentioned that carefully positioned metal meant Allomancers could make the trip very quickly indeed. Perhaps once he wasn’t being watched quite so closely he could… Marsh grimaced. He could what? Steel Push his way a few hundred yards out of Luthadel before his clear lack of skill with the metal sent him slamming into the ground?

Tossing another coin, Marsh Pushed as gently as possible. The coin shot across the room, and bounced off the wall lightly, but absolutely nowhere near where he’d been aiming.

_Progress_ , Marsh thought sourly, thinking of himself as the coin, tossed with force into the air and away from the Allomancers road to Fellise.

He wasn’t entirely sure how much he could survive, but he was certain he could break bones.

Marsh also considered the coins he was holding. The Inquisitors would use them as weapons, all Coinshots and Lurchers did. If it came down to a fight…

Well, it shouldn’t require a lot of finesse to deflect them, so that was something. Just so long as they were aimed at him, and not someone else, because if Marsh’s iron Pulls continued to be as strong as the steel Push he’d just end up full of coins.

Except… he could probably survive that, now.

His spikes throbbed.

Marsh shook his head, massaging his palm.

Still best to avoid it. It would hardly be pleasant.

How long did he have before Kelsier made his move, whatever it was now? The House War was well and truly on its way, and the noble Houses of Luthadel were in chaos.

How long would Kelsier let the House War build before he acted? Marsh wished he knew.

He hoped his brother did have a plan. He hoped he’d considered how many people it would effect, both if it succeeded and when it failed.

_Dockson_ , Marsh reminded himself. _Dockson will plan for such things._ _Probably_. _If Kelsier tells him everything._

The door to his room swung open and Marsh discarded the coins, trying to look nonchalant about it. Just practising with steel and iron. That should be perfectly fine.

An Inquisitor walked in and Marsh tried not to flinch. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting.

It was just… Inquisitors.

‘Come with me,’ said the Inquisitor. Marsh had forgotten its name. He’d forgotten most of their names. It had been the least of his concerns the day before.

He stood, trying to keep his distance without actually appearing to do so.

Lord Ruler! It was an _Inquisitor_.

So was he.

Marsh’s spikes stepped up their throbbing and he gritted his teeth.

Weren’t they, technically, equals now?

‘Where are we going?’ Marsh asked.

‘To meet our God,’ the Inquisitor said, and smiled.

_Oh._

Marsh silently berated himself for not expecting that. He was now a Steel Inquisitor, priest of the Final Empire. Of _course_ he’d be expected to meet the Lord Ruler.

____________________________

 

The room was breathtaking. It would, Marsh suspected, have been more so if he had _normal_ sight. Marsh missed that sorely.

Such a ridiculous thing to be thinking, under the circumstances, but he did miss it.

_I’m distracting myself. I can’t afford to do that. Not here._

The Lord Ruler was already there. Marsh could see him, sitting up on his throne, watching him – but he could also _feel_ him. The Soothing was suffocating, pressing down on Marsh.

Did he burn brass _constantly_? Marsh had assumed it was only when he left Kredik Shaw. Or for obligator ceremonies.

Marsh hesitated, then burnt copper. He wasn’t sure if that was an acceptable thing to do when faced with one’s God, yet he needed to stay clear-headed. It was vital that he kept his concentration, particularly around this man. The one man who Marsh wasn’t certain _couldn’t_ read minds.

It was best to err on the safe side.

_I serve the Final Empire_ , Marsh told himself firmly. _I absolutely believe in the Final Empire and its church._

The oppressive feeling remained despite the copper. The Lord Ruler was piercing his coppercloud, just like an Inquisitor.

Except that the Lord Ruler was infinitely more powerful.

_He would have to be, to keep their loyalty._

Perhaps he had more spikes.

‘My new Inquisitor,’ said the Lord Ruler, his voice loud but… weary?

‘My lord,’ Marsh said, and bowed.

_Could_ the Lord Ruler read thoughts? It did seem doubtful. Marsh had never known any Allomancy – or Feruchemy – that would make it possible. But he’d never heard of Hemalurgy until the day before, so Marsh was concerned.

His Allomancy was so strong…

_I serve the Final Empire._

The Lord Ruler stood from his throne and descended casually down the stairs towards Marsh. If this man suspected the truth, then any hope of defeating the other Inquisitors would be gone. Marsh tried not to cringe away.

_I serve the Final Empire. I trust in the methods of the Steel Ministry._ _Please don’t see through this…_

The Lord Ruler – Marsh’s supposed God – stopped in front of him.

‘I have given you abilities beyond anything you could have hoped for,’ said the Lord Ruler. ‘I have elevated you to one of the highest positions in my church. Made you one of the dominant creatures in my empire.’

The Soothing was pressing down on Marsh, depressing his every emotion.

‘Thank you, my lord,’ Marsh said, shivering slightly.

_I… serve… the… Final… Empire…_

The Lord Ruler stayed right there, looking at Marsh with eyes that seemed to see right through him. Tired eyes, though. Marsh decided the Lord Ruler’s eyes reflected his true age.

A thousand years…

Marsh had never felt so insignificant.

_I believe in the Final Empire and its church. I believe… in its God._

He couldn’t stop the trembling. His spikes’ throbbing seemed… distant.

The Soothing pressed in on his mind, almost _physically_ painful, before… sliding away, abating back to its normal state of being purely mentally crushing.

_What was that?_

The Lord Ruler watched him closely. Too closely.

_I serve the Final Empire…_

The Lord Ruler gave a slight nod, turning away. ‘You will serve me with unwavering loyalty.’

‘Yes, my lord,’ Marsh forced out, amazed that his voice still sounded steady.

The Lord Ruler stood at a window, staring at the coloured panes of glass. Marsh wanted to know what metals he burnt, but he didn’t dare burn bronze.

‘My physical age changes,’ The Lord Ruler said suddenly. ‘You will accept this without question.’

_He… what? That’s not Allomancy… It could be another form of Hemalurgy that I’ve yet to learn about._

The Lord Ruler turned back around.

_I serve the Final Empire._

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘Your brethren will inform you of your duties,’ said the Lord Ruler, waving a dismissive hand at Marsh.

Marsh bowed again, and walked back towards the Inquisitor waiting by the door. He didn’t run. He definitely did _not_ want to run.

He stepped through the door, and out of the throne room.

He didn’t understand what that had been about. He didn’t understand the odd change in the Lord Ruler’s Soothing, either. It _had_ been different, and Marsh had expected something more to happen… but it hadn’t.

Almost as if it had been brushed away.

That was stupid, of course, and Marsh resolved not to worry about it. It had to just be part of the Lord Ruler’s odd Allomantic strength, and likely explained by his particular Hemalurgy.

Nothing to be concerned about.

__________________________

 

The Inquisitor introduced itself as Kar and led him down into the torture chambers.

Of course he did. Marsh had known such a thing would be coming.

It was hard not to refuse outright.

What if he was expected to participate?

The longer he spent in Kredik Shaw the more Marsh realised he couldn’t keep up the pretence of cooperating long. Working in the Canton of Inquisition as an obligator had been one thing. The Inquisitors… that was something quite different.

The Inquisitor’s duties were too gruesome.

Marsh had _known_ that.

He hadn’t been intending to join their ranks.

The lower levels of Kredik Shaw were not lit. Marsh knew that only because he’d noticed the lack of torches on the walls, once they were about half way down. Inquisitor vision, apparently, did not require light.

Assuming he survived, that might be useful in the future.

His spikes throbbed more insistently at his discomfort. They always did.

It was a somewhat inconvenient catch. High emotions definitely made it worse. And thinking about the spikes…

Marsh still tried not to think too hard about the spikes. Nor even about the Allomancy they’d granted him.

Eleven people had died so that he could have those abilities.

Whatever pain they caused him was irrelevant next to the death that had made Marsh’s new existence possible.

He followed Kar as they started to pass barred cells. Not all of them were empty, either.

Marsh made no attempt to look inside. He wouldn’t like what he saw, and his attention would only serve to terrify the poor person within.

They passed five empty cells.

‘We keep Mistings here,’ Kar said. ‘We’ll need to refill them.’

Mistings found from Soothing stations and the Inquisitor’s ability to pierce copperclouds. Marsh tried not to wince as to _why_ the cells were now empty.

His spikes throbbed.

Kar glanced around at Marsh, who pretended to survey his surroundings with interest.

He’d expected to feel slightly more nauseous, all things considered. The cells were evidently not cleaned often, and blood showed up very well in his new vision.

Since Kar was still watching him, Marsh refused to allow himself to grimace.

‘And Mistborn?’ Marsh asked idly. ‘I imagine it’s harder to collect Mistborn.’

And yet they had. Each and every Inquisitor could burn Atium, and Marsh could burn duralumin. He supposed the others could too, but he wasn’t certain.

Kar grinned. ‘It is. We do manage to find Atium Mistings occasionally.’

Marsh frowned. ‘Atium Mistings?’

‘You didn’t think we found _two_ Mistborn to create you, did you?’

‘Of course I did. Atium Mistings are said not to exist.’

Kar shook his head. ‘The obligators know of them too. Had you been in the Canton long enough you would have found out. Mistings exist for all metals.’

Interesting, but Marsh couldn’t see any immediate benefit from the information.

Nor did Kar seem to care for a response, because he set off again, leaving Marsh to wonder where he was being led.

They passed cells and… other rooms. Torture chambers. Disturbingly, Marsh saw spikes in more than one of them.

Kar saw him looking. ‘For experimentation. We’re always looking for more bind points.’

‘Bind points?’ Marsh asked, doubting he’d like the answer.

‘Where the spikes are effective. It’s very important where they’re placed.’

‘Ah. I see.’

_Well, I was right about that_.

He wondered if the Lord Ruler had a different positioning of spikes to give him more power. Perhaps. That could also explain the lack of eye spikes.

They walked on, until Marsh’s patience wore thin. He didn’t need to see where the Inquisitors made people suffer. He didn’t need to see the people _currently_ suffering, unable to do anything about it – thankfully there weren’t many of those.

‘Were we down here for something in particular?’ he asked.

Kar stopped, and regarded him with those flat spike heads. ‘We often work down here. It’s important you know your way around.’ He continued; ‘I would show you some of our interrogation techniques, but it will have to wait. We don’t have time before the executions.’

_It will have to wait…_

_Good,_ thought Marsh. _At least he doesn’t expect me to –_

The rest of Kar’s sentence struck home.

‘Executions?’ Marsh asked, more sharply than he’d intended.

‘Oh yes,’ Kar said, ‘partly because of the Pits of Hathsin.’

_What?_

‘What about the Pits of Hathsin?’

When Kar answered, he sounded angry. ‘They were destroyed.’

The Pits of Hathsin had been destroyed. Marsh didn’t need to stop and wonder who was behind that… but _why_? If Kelsier had decided to destroy them, why wait so long? It had to be part of his plan for Luthadel – and it had been, previously. But there was no longer a skaa army to feign an attack at Hathsin, and this sounded like no feint.

‘And there will be executions to keep the population in line,’ Marsh said, his tone perfectly level. Executions. As a direct result of what Kell had done.

Yet, the Pits of Hathsin… Mare had died there. No, Mare had _been_ _killed_ there, and Marsh couldn’t bring himself to regret their destruction.

‘Partly,’ Kar said, his voice echoing in the stone rooms. ‘However, House Renoux needed to be executed, regardless. We’ve been following leads on a Mistborn skaa for some time, and recently found she had integrated into House Renoux.’

_House Renoux._

They’d been tracking down Vin, and had found House Renoux.

________________________

 

Marsh stood in the square, waiting.

And thinking very, _very_ hard.

He could not execute all of House Renoux. He could not execute the innocent skaa who would undoubtedly follow.

The Lord Ruler would be there shortly, and Marsh knew he had no hope of taking out the other Inquisitors with him there. God or not, the Lord Ruler’s Allomancy was unbelievable strong.

Realistically, Marsh knew he had no hope of taking the Inquisitors out, anyway. Four of them around him, and he’d had a short two days to get used to most of the Allomantic metals.  The other four Inquisitors would arrive with the Lord Ruler.

Yet. He could _not_ take part.

_It’s the best way to fool them_ , a voice whispered.

It was, but it was also completely unacceptable.

Marsh tried not to shift anxiously. He’d have to wait, look for any opportunity to do… _something_. Anything.

If it really came down to it, Marsh would just have to wait until the others were preparing to complete the executions and run behind them, attempting to pull out as many of the linchpin spikes as he could.

He would fail, of course.

But… not completely. If Marsh took out even a single Inquisitor, the whole square full of people would watch how he did it. Watch, and remember.

 A stir went through the waiting crowd and Marsh frowned. Was that the carts of prisoners about to arrive? He hoped not.

Then the rumour spread close enough to the stage for Marsh to hear it.

A Mistborn was fighting an Inquisitor.

Not just any Mistborn either; the Survivor of Hathsin.

_Lord Ruler,_ Marsh thought crossly. _He’d better not be._

They’d posted an Inquisitor by the name of Bendal by the prisoner carts, in a brown robe. Hoping to catch Vin, Marsh assumed, since she hadn’t been with the rest of House Renoux. Or maybe Kell’s reputation as the Survivor of Hathsin had led them to hope they _would_ catch him out.

Unlikely. Kell’s tactic with Inquisitors had always been to get them to chase him, and then lose them around the streets.

Most likely, he’d have opened the prison carts and distracted the Inquisitor long enough to get away.

If he was even there. Marsh doubted that. The trap hadn’t worried him in the slightest, not even when he’d seen the soldiers going to take their positions. A lot of the thieving crews didn’t watch the executions at all, since there was nothing forcing them to do so. Unless Kell had somehow found out ahead of time that it was House Renoux being executed, Marsh doubted he’d even be in the crowd.

The crowd continued to stir, muttering among themselves, and an obligator approached Kar. He spoke in a low tone and Kar grinned.

‘Our trap has worked,’ Kar said, just loud enough for only the Inquisitors to hear. ‘The Survivor of Hathsin is indeed fighting Bendal.’

_Kell, you cursed idiot_. _Get_ out _of there._

What could have made him decide to stand and fight? Marsh stood on the stage, feeling helpless. Even if he could risk running off to help, Kelsier would simply see an Inquisitor approaching. Marsh would distract him, and likely get his brother killed.

A powerful Soothing washed through the square, and the black carriage swept through, not bothering to pause at the stage. The other four Inquisitors moved behind the carriage, astride black horses, axes at the ready.

_Oh no_ , thought Marsh.

Perhaps Kell really was just distracting the Inquisitor while the prisoners escaped. He could still get clear before the Lord Ruler arrived.

Kar received another message and turned around with a grin. ‘We’re going too, looping around, and clearing the crowds.’

_Clearing the crowds…_

Kar drew his axe to emphasise his point, and leapt off the stage.

Marsh dived after him, and he drew his axe too. Very, very few people would approach him, particularly not with the axe drawn. Yet, Kar was _using_ his, cutting through the crowd to leave the square.

Marsh burnt steel, opting instead to Push people clear, hoping his inexperience wouldn’t hurt too many of them. He wasn’t sure it mattered if the others noticed he wasn’t killing, he _had_ to reach those carts. Maybe in the confusion he could pull his fool of a brother clear.

He lost sight of Kar. Marsh cursed, and sprinted through the crowds, people screaming as they saw him. Running into each other in their panic.

‘Get out of my _way_!’ Marsh snarled, bodily shoving aside a man who’d simply frozen at Marsh’s approach. Somewhere behind him would be three more Inquisitors. He gave the man an extra shove in the back. ‘ _Run_ , you idiot!’

The Lord Ruler would have reached the carts by now, Marsh knew. Kelsier would have seen him coming. Would have _felt_ him coming from the Soothing.

He caught sight of the carts, above the screaming crowd and Marsh craned his neck to look, to try and see a Mistborn escaping over the roof tops. Instead he tripped, stumbling. Marsh glanced down, and flinched. He’d tripped over a corpse, the chest ripped open, most likely from an axe.

_Where was Kelsier?_

Marsh pressed forward again and a sword arced through the air towards him. Pushing it away almost too late, Marsh stared in surprise at the man now looking at him in terror.

Who would _attack_ an _Inquisitor_?

Other than Kell, apparently.

The man, burning pewter, fled with the rest of the crowd. The screaming was getting worse. There were soldiers all around.

The Soothing eased, and Marsh spun on the spot, just catching a glimpse of the Lord Ruler’s carriage as it disappeared again.

_What_?

He could see two of the Inquisitors on horses, attacking the crowd at random.

And a Mistborn shot down into the middle of the square.

_Thank –_ Marsh cut himself off mid-thought. The figure was too small to be Kell. Far too small.

Vin.

And Kar was shoving his way towards her. Marsh slammed into him, pretending not to notice as he ploughed through the crowd, swinging his axe as if he truly intended to hit people. Kar cursed at him, then swung around, but Vin was gone.

Marsh reached the carts. One was upturned, its cage gone. Most people were moving _away_ from them now, trying to clear out as the Inquisitors attacked, leaving the centre of the square largely empty.

Aside from the dead. Bendal would have killed anyone near and it was where the fighting started so –

Marsh saw Bendal first.

Decapitated.

Kelsier had killed him. _Somehow_ his brother had defeated an Inquisitor. That must have been why the Lord Ruler left. Kell had killed Bendal, and been gone by the time the black carriage had arrived.

A body lay nearby, Marsh turned to look at it…

… and staggered into the cart. _No_.

_No. Please._

Not his little brother.

Kell had _survived_ his certain death sentence. He’d come _back_ from Hathsin.

Yet there was no question on whether he still lived. One side of Kelsier’s face was completely destroyed, while the other eye stared out sightlessly over the massacre that still raged around the square. A spear had been rammed deep into his body, and his blood spread out onto the stones.

Marsh gripped the cart to stop himself from falling. The rough wood bit into his hand. His spikes throbbed abominably.

_Why, Kelsier?_

Had he wanted to prove a point? Had Kelsier been so unfathomably _reckless_ to take on an Inquisitor just to prove he could do it?

But he _had_ done it. Bendal had not killed Kelsier. That must have been the Lord Ruler.

The man who would be God. Marsh was going to drag him down if it was the last thing he ever did. Collapse the Final Empire and leave nothing but ash in its wake. For everyone who had died in it. For the skaa. For Mare. For _Kelsier_.

‘Collect the spikes.’

Marsh jumped and spun, facing another Inquisitor. He nearly attacked, there and then.

_Wait. Wait and you can defeat the Lord Ruler._

‘What?’ Marsh asked.

The Inquisitor knelt down and ripped open Bendal’s robe. For once it wasn’t smiling. ‘From his head. Get the spikes.’

Marsh made himself look away from Kell’s body. He stared at Bendal’s head. The spikes had been driven into the wood of the cart. The neck dripped blood.

‘ _What_?’ he repeated, his own spikes keeping up their barrage of pain.

The other Inquisitor began methodically tearing spikes from Bendal’s body. It didn’t respond.

_You have to keep pretending to be one of them! You have to succeed!_

Marsh swallowed his disgust and confusion, and, holding tightly to his grief, reached forward and pulled free the first spike.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

The pain from the spikes was impossible to ignore.

Marsh stood at a window in Kredik Shaw, looking out over Luthadel. Kelsier was dead. Killed by the Lord Ruler himself, apparently without so much as a fight. Kell had delivered some kind of speech about hope and just… stayed there.

He should have _run_.

Instead the Lord Ruler had killed him.

And Marsh had told his brother he wished he’d died at the Pits of Hathsin.

_I didn’t want you dead, Kell. I just wanted her to live_.

Had he known that? Had he known that, despite their differences, Marsh did love him?

There was an emptiness in Marsh’s chest that refused to leave him. Was this how Kell had felt, assuming Marsh himself was dead?

_I never did manage to get a message to him_.

Kelsier had moved too quickly, fighting an Inquisitor. Killing it.

_I could have done that for him. He didn’t need to. If only I’d told him._

He hadn’t, and Kelsier had succeeded in killing the Inquisitor. And had stayed despite not standing a chance against the Lord Ruler.

Then there was the whole _eleventh metal_ business. Where had that got him, when he stood in front of the Lord Ruler? Marsh had long suspected his brother had had no idea what to do with that, otherwise why the secrecy? It had smacked as posturing.

Marsh had doubted there even was another Allomantic metal.

Now, however, he knew better.

There wasn’t just one more metal, but surely Kell hadn’t had duralumin or aluminium.

Duralumin… well. Kell should _not_ have kept that secret from Vin if he’d known it. Duralumin could have given them both an edge against the Inquisitors in Kell’s reckless attempt to get back into Kredik Shaw. No, Kelsier had not had duralumin.

As for aluminium…

Whatever metal Kell had found, he’d burnt it.

If it had been aluminium, it would have taken him seconds to figure out that all it did was destroy the rest of your metal reserves.

If Kelsier had known that, and still gone around waving a bar of aluminium and proclaiming he had the answer to killing the Lord Ruler, then Marsh was going to hunt him down in the afterlife and hit him with it.

Marsh might never find out. Perhaps it was better that way.

He doubted there was a specific metal that could kill the Lord Ruler anyway. When he’d been given an account of the day… Marsh had struggled to see past Kell. Yet… the Lord Ruler had taken two spears straight through the body. And survived.

To Marsh, that didn’t sound like Allomancy. It sounded like Hemalurgy. Just like when the Lord Ruler had pierced his coppercloud.

It was as close to confirmation of his suspicions that Marsh was going to get. The Lord Ruler may not have the spike eyes of an Inquisitor, but Marsh found it very likely he had spikes in his chest.

And maybe, _maybe_ in his back.

The linchpin spike. Would it still be necessary without the eye spikes?

That was a risk Marsh was willing to take.

It was a risk Marsh would have taken even without his brother’s sacrifice and he just… didn’t understand. Kelsier had dragged himself home from Hathsin. Why stay and fight the Inquisitor? Why not flee immediately after?

Pride and his cursed ego had to be the answer to the first question.

Marsh couldn’t even begin on the second.

He sighed. His spikes throbbed.

And then he saw the fires.

It took him a moment to recognise what he was seeing with the Inquisitor vision. Fires, dotted around Luthadel… torches, being carried by crowds of people. People with weapons. Skaa. Armed skaa.

_What_?

Marsh stood up straighter, ignoring the pain. Armed skaa marching through Luthadel…

‘My lord!’

Marsh spun, facing two guards who winced away from him.

‘My lord! The city! The skaa have gone mad! They march in the Survivors name!’

Marsh stared at him.

‘The Survivor is dead,’ he said flatly.

‘Yes, but the skaa… The say he died to… to free them.’ The guard looked increasingly nervous. ‘They say… I apologise, my lord, but they talk as if he’s a God.’

They did _what_?

The myth of the Eleventh Metal… The reputation Kelsier had been fostering… That speech in front of the Lord Ruler…

This was no accident.

It may not have been planned from the very start, but Kelsier had taken it and run. Run straight to his death.

‘There is no God but the Lord Ruler,’ Marsh growled. ‘Return to your posts.’

‘But my lord…’ one of the guards said, in a very small voice. ‘The skaa…’

‘Return,’ Marsh said, and stepped forward, ‘to your posts. Immediately.’

They both took a hurried step backwards. ‘Yes, my lord.’

Turning back to the window Marsh faced the city that was his home. He’d failed for so, so many years. The skaa rebellion had never been big enough to make a difference. Had never included enough of the population to so much as gain the attention of Kredik Shaw.

Years, Marsh had failed. Until, watching his brother and Mare dragged off to their deaths, he’d given up. The rebellion had seemed impossible within his lifetime.

Kelsier had come back to the city and achieved it in barely a year.

Why? Why could his brother do what Marsh could not?

Why had he given up on them, when it was clearly possible?

What had he been doing so wrong, to achieve nothing?

_Stop it,_ Marsh scolded himself. _It matters little in the long run who caused it._

It _did_ matter to him. It hurt, deep in the core of who Marsh was. Once again, Kelsier had achieved more than him. One final time.

And that, too. Never, never in his whole life had Marsh considered Kelsier to be self-sacrificing. Had someone tried to warn him, Marsh wasn’t sure he would have believed them. It was difficult, even with the evidence right in front of his inhuman eyes.

The skaa rebellion spread through the city below.

There were… so many of them.

And yet if they reached Kredik Shaw, they would be slaughtered. The Lord Ruler… whatever Hemalurgy he’d used to gain his powers, his strength in Allomancy was unbelievable.

Kell had brought down an Inquisitor, with extreme difficulty. There were eight more. Well. Nine. But, eight who would pose a problem.

The Inquisitors would give the rebellion a fight. Perhaps they would win. Perhaps not.

The Lord Ruler… he would crush it with barely a scratch.

Wasn’t that what history taught? The Lord Ruler could destroy armies single-handedly.

All his life, Marsh had tried to tell himself that this was false. Information spread by the Lord Ruler and his church. Having felt the strength of his Allomancy, Marsh now knew it to be true.

Marsh stepped away from the window, moving swiftly through Kredik Shaw.

There was a meeting with the obligators scheduled. After that, the Inquisitors would rest. Provided that the Lord Ruler didn’t order them out into the city, but Marsh doubted it. He wouldn’t want to lose another servant.

Lifting a vial, Marsh downed extra pewter, burning it immediately. Being an Inquisitor was… tiring, and he could not afford to lose concentration.

The others would detect him burning it. They’d likely think nothing of it. They’d also be tired and would assume Marsh was simply unused to it.

The rebellion would not try to take Kredik Shaw immediately. He had some time. He _had_ to have some time, because it was vital he waited until the Inquisitors went to rest.

Then –

A guard skidded around the corner. ‘My lord!’

Marsh barely glanced in his direction. ‘The skaa. I am aware. Return to your post.’

The more guards who simply stayed hanging around Kredik Shaw, the better.

‘No, my lord! A Mistborn! Seen in Kredik Shaw itself!’

‘A _what_?’ Marsh rounded on the guard.

_Not again._

A beat later the realisation that it _couldn’t_ be Kelsier this time hit Marsh like a hammer blow. His exasperated worry changed to outright concern... and another wave of the deep seated grief that refused to abate.

_Not Kelsier…_

Let it be a foolish noble, trying to seek shelter from the chaos outside.

Marsh strode away from the guard, only breaking into a run when he was out of the man’s sight. The eleventh metal. Kelsier had spread that rumour far and wide. Shared his conviction with everyone around him that it _would_ work. _Everyone_ around him.

He nearly ran straight into another Inquisitor.

It stared at him in surprise.

‘Outside,’ Marsh said. ‘A skaa rebellion…’

It shrugged. ‘The Lord Ruler says it is not our concern.’

Of course he did, but Marsh needed to find the damn Mistborn. He nodded and went to step around the other Inquisitor.

‘Wait,’ the Inquisitor said, ‘you are to come with me. The meeting is about to start.’

Marsh must have lost track of time. He’d been deep in his thoughts.

_Kelsier…_

He’d got the skaa to rise. He shouldn’t have had to lose his life for it. _Why_ hadn’t he run? Surely becoming a martyr hadn’t been necessary, not for Kelsier, who had naturally gathered adoring followers.

Marsh’s spikes throbbed.

The meeting… He couldn’t get out of the meeting. Yet…

‘I heard rumours of an intruder within Kredik Shaw. I will come when I have investigated them.’

The Inquisitor shrugged again. ‘We have caught the Mistborn.’

Marsh tried not to grimace.

_Let them be a noble. Please let them be a noble. Allow me that much._

He had no real choice. He followed the other Inquisitor to the throne room. 

_________________________

 

The meeting was of no importance.

Marsh stood with the other Inquisitors, paying only the slightest attention to what was being said. He ran through his plan in his mind, stage by stage.

Inquisitors first. One at a time.

Wait until they were asleep, or filling gold minds… Unaware and weakened.

_Then_ the Lord Ruler.

It was a simple plan. Perhaps too simple, but there was already enough that could go wrong without throwing in unnecessary complications.

The Inquisitor next to him stirred, caught Marsh’s attention and gestured for them both to leave the throne room.

Marsh hesitated. What was this about? He needed to be in the throne room. He needed to make sure _all_ the Inquisitors went where they were supposed to.

The Inquisitor gestured with more impatience.

Well, hopefully the others would stay put. Marsh slipped out the door with the other Inquisitor.

‘We’re to bring the Mistborn prisoner,’ said the Inquisitor, smiling slightly.

‘Bring the prisoner…’ Marsh frowned. ‘In front of the Lord Ruler? To what purpose?’

‘Bendal’s been hunting her for some time,’ the Inquisitor said. ‘Bendal, and now Kar.’

It didn’t seem to have anything to add to that.

_Hunting her_ , Marsh thought. _Her_.

You didn’t hunt noble Mistborn. There was no reason for it. However, there was a Mistborn that the Inquisitors had been hunting. For some time.

He eyed the back of the other Inquisitor. But, if he were to return alone… and without the prisoner. It would never work.

They reached the cells, and the other Inquisitor went in first, dragging the slim form of the prisoner out of the cage and into Marsh’s line of sight.

The prisoner was Vin.

Marsh suppressed an annoyed sigh. He didn’t need this. _Why_ had she come back to Kredik Shaw after it had nearly killed her the first time? It smacked of something Kelsier would do.

… it _was_ something Kelsier had done.

Marsh shifted uncomfortably. It didn’t alleviate the pain from his spikes. It never did.

If the other Inquisitor chose to kill her right then, Marsh would be powerless to stop it. He couldn’t alert them that he was a traitor. Not now. Not when he was so close. Not before he could get them all at once.

As an added bonus, if Vin recognised him, Marsh seriously doubted she’d be able to keep her revelation to herself.

She was dragged out, struggling, and Marsh kept his hood up, shadowing most of his face. He should probably grin at her. That was what most Inquisitors did.

Instead, he stepped back, allowing the two of them through.

Vin turned and glared at him.

_Please, do_ not _recognise me_ , Marsh thought. _I don’t have time to deal with this right now_.

Vin pulled forward in the other Inquisitor’s grip… and spat.

It hit Marsh in the face. Directly on his eye spike.

Marsh ground his teeth, trying not to be too irritated. It probably meant that Vin was, so far, fine, _and_ she hadn’t recognised him. Still. Perhaps next time she could direct her ire at the enemy. That would be nice.

He wiped his face and followed the other Inquisitor to the throne room, as Vin screamed her head off. Why, Marsh couldn’t fathom. They were in _Kredik Shaw_ for Lord Ruler’s sake. Who did she think was going to help her?

That was probably something Marsh himself was going to have to do. If she could survive long enough.

Kar was planning something, he had been for quite a while. Marsh had _known_ it there was something happening to do with Obligator-Inquisitor politics, and he’d also known they searched for Vin.

He still wasn’t entirely sure what the connection was.

If they planned to execute her publically… or even just in the throne room, come to think of it. Marsh could do nothing under the eye of all the other Inquisitors _and_ the Lord Ruler. It was like the executions all over again, only this time Marsh knew he couldn’t risk acting to save her. One person’s life weighed against the slaughter that greeted the skaa if the Lord Ruler was not defeated…

Vin would just have to try and take care of herself – not an easy task when being restrained by an Inquisitor.

Certainly not an easy task when being dragged in front of the Lord Ruler himself.

Marsh returned to the other Inquisitors and stood quietly. All had their hoods up, thankfully. A significant number of obligators were in attendance, including the Lord Prelan. Actually… it seemed to be the Lord Prelan who Kar was interested in.

And Kar announced the Lord Prelan as Vin’s father.

That was… interesting.

_The Inquisitors are making another play at the Lord Prelan…_

Careli’s words. The Inquisitors wanted to lead the Ministry and… the Lord Prelan had broken the rules.

The Inquisitor holding Vin twisted her arm to get her to answer, and the Lord Ruler approached.

Marsh twitched. He could see the effect of the Lord Ruler’s Soothing on Vin. That wasn’t really his concern. She _would_ answer. It was what would happen to her _after_ that that worried Marsh.

And answer she did.

The Lord Prelan was Vin’s father. The Lord Ruler was… not happy.

_Transfer authority to the Canton of Inquisition…_

Marsh almost stepped back as a thought struck him. If he was successful… Marsh would find himself at the head of the Steel Ministry.

A lot still had to come together before that was the case. The Lord Prelan was trembling and with good reason, Marsh knew, any second the Lord Ruler would –

He allowed the Inquisitors at the Lord Prelan.

The others _dived_ forward with a glee that made Marsh cringe inwardly. Obsidian daggers came out, and they descended on the Lord Prelan in a shower of blood. He didn’t allow himself to look away. He _certainly_ didn’t allow himself to look over at Vin.

What if she was next?

_You should join in_ , whispered a voice from the back of his mind.

Marsh froze. No. No, he most certainly should _not_ join in. Why would he even _think_ that?

He shook off the thought, feeling vaguely rattled by the experience.

Vin was dragged out again, and Marsh watched her go.

After today, there would be no more Inquisitors in Luthadel. He knew how to defeat them now, and the time was fast approaching when they’d all be expected to lie down, rest, and fill their gold minds. If all went to plan, they would not be getting up again.

No one in Luthadel would have to die like that again.

__________________________

 

The transfer of power to the Canton of Inquisition complete, the Inquisitors all filed out of the throne room.

It was hard to keep an outward appearance of calm.

Marsh had to work _quickly_. The other Inquisitors headed straight to their rooms, some to genuinely sleep immediately, others to fill their goldminds. His heart hammered in his chest – there was no room for mistakes.

He didn’t wait for the first to lie down. It barely made it to the doorway. Marsh shadowed the other Inquisitor – presumably it thought he was headed to his own room – and ripped open the back of its robes.

It grunted in surprise, and went to turn. Marsh gripped the linchpin spike and _tugged_ , wrenching it free.

The Inquisitor collapsed. It slumped to the floor, going still, not breathing.

Right up until that point, Marsh had not truly believed it would work.

He stared down at the spike eyes.

Marsh had just successfully killed an Inquisitor.

No time to process that.

One down, seven more to go.

The next two went just as smoothly. The second barely saw him, and the third was filling its goldmind. Lying down. Weak.

The fourth woke up.

It must have been genuinely sleeping, but lightly, given that it had just lain down. 

Marsh was just reaching for the back of its robe, when it sat up, staring at him.

‘What?’ it rasped, half confusion, half annoyance, twisting away from him.

No time to think about it. Flaring pewter, Marsh swung his axe, and buried it in the Inquisitor’s face.

Blood sprayed out and Marsh grunted, yanking the axe free. He stared down at the mess of the Inquisitor, feeling oddly detached. It was dead. It had to be dead. All the same, Marsh grabbed a handful of its robes, rolling it over to pull the spike from its back.

He hesitated, then wiped his axe clean on its robes. Too much of a chance that it could alert the next Inquisitor.

The blood on his robes would not stand out. Not after what the others had done to the Lord Prelan.

_Four down._

Marsh left the room, feeling like the gore should have left him shaking. It hadn’t. He _was_ apprehensive at entering the next room. Couldn’t have another one waking up. _Far_ too much chance of it going badly.

It didn’t wake.

Another room. Another dead Inquisitor.

And a skaa rebellion outside.

Marsh felt grimly satisfied.

Another room.

_Six._

Two more. Just two. Then there would be just one Inquisitor in Luthadel. Head of the Steel Ministry. Marsh was going to tear it down, burn it to the ground, have it indistinguishable from the ash that would coat the streets.

He shook his head. No. He would reform it. That was less likely to take the entire city down with it.

Some stability had to remain, or they would face an uncontrollable chaos.

Marsh went to the seventh room and found himself hesitating outside.

_You could leave some alive for questioning_ , a voice whispered. _The cells below will hold them_.

That could be worth considering. The Inquisitors undoubtedly knew invaluable information that Marsh had yet to learn.

Aluminium. Duralumin. Hemalurgy itself. What else were they hiding?

Yet the risk was too great. Marsh knew the Inquisitors were far too dangerous.

He strode in and pulled the spike free.

One more to go and so far things had mostly gone smoothly. Even the one that had woken had not truly expected treachery.

Seven spikes in his sash, Marsh started running through in his mind how he would get close to the Lord Ruler. Flat out attacking could be his only option. With luck the Lord Ruler would be too surprised to react in time.

Kar wasn’t in his room. _That_ wasn’t good.

Marsh hurriedly checked the surrounding area, but the eighth Inquisitor was nowhere to be seen. If he found one of the others, then Marsh would be in trouble. He remembered his poor use of the physical metals; Marsh could not let it come down to a fight.

As long as the other Inquisitor wasn’t expecting it, it shouldn’t be a problem. Marsh just had to find him quickly.

Where had he gone?

Perhaps he was down by the cages. Marsh began to head that way. Perhaps he was with Vin.

_He could have stayed with the Lord Ruler_.

Yes. That was more likely. Kar would have stayed in with the Lord Ruler – Marsh was now certain of it.

He set off that way at a jog, urgency settling in. The key to getting the Inquisitors had always been doing it _quickly_. Luckily he wasn’t too far away.

‘ _Inquisitors!_ ’ came the powerful shout. ‘ _Come to me!_ ’

The Lord Ruler. Something was going on. Something _else_ was going on.

He’d deal with it. He had no other choice.

Marsh dumped the seven spikes just as he reached the door. If Kar saw Marsh with them it could tip him off. His hood had fallen down at some point, so Marsh pushed it back up. It was more normal to have it up and Kar _could not suspect_.

By moving to kill Kar in front of the Lord Ruler, he knew he was committing himself fully.

Then again, had Marsh not committed himself fully the moment he had the obligator tattoos done?

_Go inside_ , a voice whispered, right at the back of his mind. 

And Marsh strode into the throne room.

 

 


End file.
